The Void in My Heart
by La Reine Du Soir
Summary: The city is a tempestuous mistress. One day, she embraces you with a kiss on your soul; the next, she carves a void in your heart and tears the stars from your eyes. Moving to the valley is the logical choice – the right choice – but sometimes, leaving is harder than it seems.
1. Chapter 1 - The Death of a Programmer

"Watch carefully, the magic that occurs, when you give a person just enough comfort, to be themselves."  
– Harper Lee, To Kill A Mockingbird

* * *

Finally. The day had arrived.

"I wish you'd get some proper technology out there," mom said, fussing with my shirt. There wasn't much that could go wrong with a plain black t-shirt, but apparently I had left my tag sticking out, embarrassing the entire family in the process. Sorry, gramps. "I guess it'll just be letters between us until you can get a phone or something. Internet would be even better."

"Yup, letters will have to suffice." I for one was glad that our communications would be confined to letters. "I'll just be four hours away anyway."

My mom held back a sob with a quiet sniffle.

"Well, good-bye, sport," my dad said, patting me on the head. He looked more worried than anything else.

I sighed. "Oh come on, dad." I opened my arms and we gave each other one last hug.

"Me too," my mom insisted, fluttering over.

"Of course," I reached over and included her in our hug. In this moment, I could almost feel grandpa here with us. I could almost feel him smile, watching us, the wrinkles around his eyes bunching up. I took a moment to compose myself.

We separated and I watched my parents walk to our car – their car. They got in and rolled down their windows.

"Good-bye, dear," my mom called and waved. A tear trickled down her face.

I waved back. "Bye!" I watched the car scoot away and join the mess of cars hurtling down Main Street. The city felt like a machine sometimes, and this was one of those times. It marched on, alive, refusing to stop for any good-byes or emotion.

The bus station was virtually empty. I already had my ticket and my belongings had already been moved out to the farm so there was nothing but to wait. I tried to focus on the moment, to try and remember all the sights and sounds around me. Lights, pollution, noise, people – I was trading those all in for some fresh air, tranquillity, and nature. Time would tell if it was a fair trade or not.

Boarding time came soon enough. The driver was a gruff blonde who took my ticket without any remarks. Fine by me. I was the sole rider headed to Stardew Valley. I took one last look around me before stepping inside.

The bus ride was uneventful, but scenic. Mom and I had done the drive there and back the past four weeks. Four weekends of four hour drives, there and back. It was only four hours, I reminded myself. If shit hit the fan there, I was only four hours away from my parents and the city.

The highway wasn't busy – Stardew Valley wasn't a prime destination for tourism, though it had a certain charm that was undeniable. It just happened to fall off people's radar when it came to weekend getaways from the city. There was some sort of fair out here in the fall, wasn't there? That was probably their peak tourism season. I wondered briefly when I would next be on this highway.

The four hours went by slowly, punctuated by a sense of dread in my stomach and the peaks of the mountains surrounding us. Was I making the right choice? Another hour passed and my dread was gone, replaced once more with hope. Of course this was the right choice. Within another half hour, I was back to remorse.

We passed the last highway sign before hitting the valley – 0.5 miles to go. I was excited and upset all at once. My gaze lingered on the sign, unsure if I really wanted to be seeing the back of it.

It was apparent that we were in the valley now. Mountains loomed around us on all sides, though I knew there was an ocean nearby, just south of Pelican Town. The bus went up a hill and suddenly I could see the town below. It was no Zuzu City, that's for sure, but seeing it eased my trepidation some, all the same.

The air in the bus crackled as the bus driver turned on her PA. "We are approaching our - holy shit!"

Suddenly, the bus veered to the right, hit a bump, and swerved left to compensate. There was a terrible sound, and I heard the brakes being hit hard. Lovely, I had only just gotten here, and the place was already trying to kill me. Mom would be beyond upset.

We came to a stop not far from the designated bus stop, and I rushed to get out. Smoke had begun to billow from under the hood of the bus. I saw the bus driver pop it open and pour a can of beer inside. I had no words to describe my thoughts.

"Hi, I'm Robin." I turned from watching the bus driver destroy the engine to see a middle-aged woman with auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail. She smiled tentatively at me.

"Hello," I replied, still unsure how to play off my bewilderment as normalcy.

"I'm so excited to meet you! Everyone is, actually. A new farmer joining the community could mean a lot to us. We're so small, and everyone knows about your arrival." She stopped to take a breath. "Anyway, I'm the local carpenter. I'm sure we'll be doing business together at some point."

"Great, yeah, I'm sure we will." I tried to ignore the smell of beer and burning coming from behind me.

"Mayor Lewis is at your place now. He's been tidying up, putting the finishing touches on things." She beckoned for me to follow as she walked down a worn path away from the town. "He used to know your grandfather so he really wanted to make sure it was homey."

"Oh, that was really unnecessary," I began, but stopped as we approached the property and saw the mayor - a moustachioed, grandfatherly man. He waved us over.

"Hi, I'm Mayor Lewis, mayor of Pelican Town." He extended a hand and I shook it. "It's a pleasure seeing you again, it seems like quite a while ago when you came down here with that deed from your grandfather."

I nodded. "Yes, over a month ago."

"Well, I'll have you know, I've been tidying up the place. It seems you already have furniture in there, but I did some dusting and left a little something for you inside." He smiled kindly.

I bowed my head. "Thank you, that's very kind."

He waved a hand. "No need, the pleasure's all mine. It's a rustic little cottage, but it cleans up nicely."

"It could really do well with an upgrade or two," Robin chimed in.

Mayor Lewis snorted. "Don't listen to her, she just wants your money. She'd be the one doing the upgrading," he explained.

I laughed nervously. Robin looked peeved, and I could feel fatigue start to settle itself into my body.

The mayor seemed to sense my tiredness. "Well, I guess we'll leave you to it. There will be plenty of time tomorrow to chat and for you to meet everybody. They really are excited to meet you."

"Great." I let out some more nervous laughter. "I'll see you both around, then."

The mayor nodded and headed back towards the town. Robin cast a glance at me and left as well, her chin lifted slightly.

I was alone now. I looked up at my grandfather's house – my house. It had taken mom and I four weekends to fix up the inside and make it liveable, but apparently the mayor had thought it incomplete still and invited himself over to gussy it up. I tried for a moment to imagine something like that happening in the city, but struggled and gave up. I already had experienced my first case of culture shock. It hadn't gone too badly. I entered my house.

The gift from the mayor must have been the box on the floor just in front of me. I contemplated opening it now, but decided to save it for tomorrow morning. I desperately wanted to unwind and could not handle any more surprises now. Aside from the box, the place looked much as we had left it.

The work that mom and I had done had left the place in a clean condition, but certainly not like-new, and the mayor's work had not improved it any further. Everything was old wood and it showed. A small TV sat in the corner, and a fireplace loomed in the other. A houseplant from my parents' house sat by the front door along with an old rug my mom had dug out of our basement. My bed was against a wall in its own corner, and a small wooden table with a chair completed the space. It wasn't much, but it was mine.

I went over to the fireplace and sat down in front of it. I fumbled with the matches in my jeans pocket, but managed to ignite it. Memories of summer and winter vacations with grandpa flooded my mind. There had been many happy times here in my youth, helping out with harvests, and shaking bushes for berries. It all looked so familiar, and yet felt sublimely different. Grandpa had left a mark here, but it was faded and worn. There was just a bud, just a whisper of change that was me, trying to get a grasp on it all.

I had run away from the city, wanting to escape the mundane, the quotidian. There was more to life than sitting at a desk, being ordered around like a lackey, being seen as nothing more than another resource. Joja Corp had robbed me of my life, and now I wanted it back, to feel whole, to fill the void in my heart. This move was the right thing to do.

I had a vision for this place. I would restore this house and clear this land. I would fill it with crops, and animals of all kinds. And I would be a part of a community.

From my spot on the floor, I could see the sky through the window, past the trees, past the property line. The sun was in the process of setting, and the sky was a gradient of purple, pink, and blue. Spring was just on the cusp of arriving.

I shuffled over to the table and reached up to grab my journal from the table. I brought it closer to the fire, being careful of the loose embers that threatened to catch fire. I opened my journal to the first page. It wouldn't hurt to start tasking things out for the coming season.

I had spoken briefly to the mayor when mom and I had first come with the deed, and at that time he had told me there were 28 people currently living in Pelican Town. I decided right then and there what my first task would be: meeting all of the townsfolk. I traced out my 28 checkboxes and left room for names. I already knew Lewis and Robin, so those could be checked off right away.

A bubble of excitement gurgled inside me. This was it. This was the beginning of my new life.

It wasn't quite night yet, but I was feeling exhausted from the long bus ride and the socialization. I quickly checked the weather report for tomorrow – sunshine all day – and settled into my bed. It'd be best to get an early start tomorrow, I reckoned. That's what real farmers did, right? It was going to be tough adapting to that kind of a schedule, but I was committed. I was a farmer now.

"Don't worry, gramps," I murmured, yawning. "I'll make you proud."

I could've sworn I saw the evening's first star twinkle in response.


	2. Chapter 2 - First Day On The Job

I felt like death. 6 o'clock was far too early for anyone to be awake. It was clear to me now that farmers were the most hardcore of all people. Screw those punk rockers, they had no idea what hardcore was.

The sun was still rising, and though it was not visible from my north-facing window, I could feel myself waking up as I took in the view. From here, I couldn't see Pelican Town, but I did see a good chunk of the valley and some mountains. Perhaps one day I would learn their names and explore them.

It was a slow process dragging myself out of bed and over to the box Mayor Lewis had left for me. I opened it, wincing, expecting the worst – a pile of dung, dirty laundry, body parts. I was pleasantly surprised.

He had given me parsnip seeds, fifteen packets of them to be precise. I was tickled by his charity and thoughtfulness. Perhaps this was a good omen.

"Here's to year 1," I said as I emptied the box onto the floor.

I dragged my backpack over and opened it. I was going to need my tools today – an exciting prospect. I took them out one by one and held them in my hands, testing their weight. They weren't heavy now, but I imagined being exhausted and trying to wield the scythe. I was probably going to get into better shape just by taking up this new profession. Take that, punk rockers.

Stuffing the parsnip seeds into an easy to access pocket, I pulled my backpack on and opened my front door.

It was an amazing sight from the front porch, especially with the sunrise painting the backdrop. Pelican Town lay just to the east in its quiet splendour. It seemed that I was the only one up at this hour as I could not see any signs of life in Pelican Town. The lucky bastards could sleep in because they weren't farmers. I let out a small sigh.

I hopped down the steps and landed on solid dirt. The land was a mess of logs, weeds, grass, boulders, trees, and stones. I knew with a sinking heart that I would have to clear some of it out before I could even plant my parsnip seeds. But something caught my attention.

The flag was up on my mailbox, and I rushed over to check what I had received. Unsurprisingly, it was a letter from my parents. It read:

 _My one, only, and dearest child,_

 _How did your first night go? Your father and I spent the entire drive back from the bus station debating what sorts of dangers you would have to deal with. My money was on bats, your father's was on ghosts. Sometimes I wonder why I married him – just kidding!_

 _Speaking of bats, a family of them seem to have made a home in the Johnstons' tree. I could hear their children taunting the poor creatures from the kitchen last evening. They were so loud! I had the window closed, even!_

 _I am working out the logistics on how to send you things, but once I get that sorted out (which should be really very soon), expect a care package, or at least a care item. Your father is doubtful that I will be able to get an entire package of goodies to you, but he is a less courageous person than I. Hmm, you probably got your courage from me. My courageousness genes are probably partly to blame as to why you moved out to the countryside in the first place. I am my own worst enemy it seems._

 _I really do wish you would get a phone or internet._

 _It is lonely without you in the house with us. We've decided to keep your room as it is should you ever want to visit (please!) or need to come back. We miss you like crazy. I need to stop before I stain this letter with my tears. Your dad says hi._

 _Love for now and always,_

 _Mom (and dad)_

I could not help but smile. A warmth suffused through me and I reread the letter twice more. I would have to figure out how to send a reply back. I had heard nothing about a post office in town, but there had to be some way to send word back that I had survived my first night. I tucked the letter into my back pocket.

With renewed optimism, I returned to the patch of weeds I had been eyeing just in front of the front porch. "Here goes nothing," I muttered, and got to work. I was thankful that I had come out here as much as I had during my youth. I had seen grandpa do this every spring – granted, he had never let it get this bad. After two hours of back-breaking work, I could officially say that I had underestimated my grandpa all those years. He had been a lot stronger than he'd looked.

The sun was out in its full glory and sweat had begun to coat my face. It was time to plant those parsnips. I retrieved the packets from my backpack and held them in my hand. How exactly was I supposed to do this? Grandpa had had sprinklers, I remembered. Those had affected the growing patterns he'd used, but what about for someone who only had a watering can?

I wracked my brain. Maybe a line would be a good way to start. I placed the seeds a sensible space apart on the ground in a straight line, covered them with dirt, and dribbled some water over them. Now what? Was I done for the day?

No, something was wrong. I thought for a moment. What had I seen grandpa do?

I reached down and touched the dirt where the seeds were buried and it struck me. I hadn't tilled the soil.

With a sigh, I dug them back up – at least, the ones I could find – and re-did my process, this time tilling the soil first. This was stupidly slow, but at least it was done now. I thought about the checklist in my journal. It was time to head into town.

I fished around in my jeans pocket to see how much money I had remembered to pack. I was suddenly very disappointed with my past self. 500g was all I had on me. Hopefully seeds would not be expensive.

More seeds meant more land had to be cleared, though. I sighed. I'd may as well do that now.

I picked up my pickaxe and went to work on a rock beside one of my parsnip seeds – except my exhaustion made me slip, and the pickaxe drove into a seed I had just planted. I let out a small scream. That was one more seed I had squandered.

With murderous thoughts, I tucked my pickaxe back into my backpack, and headed towards town. It had been a long time since I had last properly been through there, and my nervousness mixed with my irritation to form a fresh, new kind of anxiety. I walked quickly past the bus stop and headed into town.

It was noticeable that I had reached some sort of urbanity. The dirt path gave way to stone, and there were sounds in the air of people out and about. I made a beeline for the general store, hoping not to run into anyone on the way. Thankfully, it was not far from this entrance to town. I made it past the clinic, got only minorly distracted by the bulletin board, and pushed my way inside.

The store was mostly shelves filled with goods and seeds. At the back I could see a sensibly dressed man about my dad's age standing behind a counter. Just beside him was a sign advertising a large backpack that sat on the counter just to the right of him. As I approached the counter, I saw that this model of backpack was a lot cheaper than those I had seen in the city. It was also about three models behind the latest, but it was much more practical than my current one. The city oozed out of me without me knowing it, and I felt self-conscious.

"Hi, I'm Pierre, owner of the general store in town, but you probably figured that out already." The man grinned broadly, the light glinting off the lenses of his glasses. "And you must be the new farmer. Welcome to Pelican Town!"

I laughed nervously. "Thanks."

"What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to buy some seeds.

"Ah yes, Mayor Lewis was in here just yesterday begging me to release some parsnip seeds to him early. My stock is seasonal and only turns over at the first of every season so you're here right on time."

"Oh gosh, I hope he didn't have to pay premium for those parsnip seeds." I chewed my bottom lip.

Pierre gave me a questioning look.

"He gave them to me," I explained. "House-warming present. Though," I lowered my voice, "I managed to destroy some of the seeds this morning."

Pierre frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I forgot to till the soil initially, but I managed to salvage most of the seeds. There were some I couldn't find, though," I admitted. "Oh, and another seed I destroyed by hitting with my pickaxe. My aim was off and I was just exhausted from clearing out some of my land."

"Oh." Pierre's tone indicated some amount of disapproval. "That's silly."

I raised my eyebrows at him and pursed my lips together. "It wasn't on purpose."

"No, no, of course not," he scoffed.

"Well, perhaps I should take my business elsewhere," I said haughtily. I remembered doing some research online about Pelican Town before moving here, and there had been mention of a Joja Mart. Just the thought of "Joja" made my skin crawl, but Pierre didn't have to know that.

His expression changed immediately. "What? No, no, I'm sorry. I really appreciate your patronage."

"I haven't bought anything yet."

"Well, what would you like?" His grin was sheepish and apologetic in equal parts.

"More parsnip seeds," I said firmly, "and some of those, and those, and those. Five of each!" I pointed at various seeds on the shelves. I had no idea what they were, but seeds were seeds.

Pierre gathered them all together on the counter. He pressed a series of keys on the cash register. "Alright, that'll be 1000g," Pierre said, smiling plaintively.

My jaw dropped. "I can't afford that."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Okay, you know what, let's scrap these kale and green bean seeds," I said quickly, separating them from the pile. "I'm not a fan of the colour green anyway."

Pierre raised an eyebrow at me, but did not say anything as he put the kale and green bean seeds back onto the shelf behind him. "Alright, so your new total will be 350g."

"Oh, okay." I put on my best poker face and handed him my money. The 150g left in my pocket made a sad sound as I shuffled forward and put the seeds in my backpack. "Well, thank you," I said to Pierre. I caught a look of bewilderment on his face before I turned and sprinted for the door. I didn't wait to hear his reply.

One of the things I had liked about living in the city was the anonymity. I could walk by a hundred people in one day, and chances were that not a single one of them would know me, at least not well enough to feel comfortable saying hi. On the other hand, that was one of the most isolating aspects of urban living. The reality of being lonely in a crowd was ugly, but undeniable, and in a sense, it was this suffering in lonely silence – paralyzed by the idea of talking to your fellow man – that destroyed communities, unmade them. I had to acknowledge my one small victory, which was talking to Pierre. I could check him off my list. Although our first meeting had not gone entirely well, it was a step in the right direction, and I felt an adrenaline rush kick in. Socialization had been rewarding. I was becoming a part of the community.

By the end of the day, I had met everybody who lived right in town: Sam, Jodi, Vincent, Haley, Emily, Gus, Clint, Alex, George, Evelyn, Pierre, Caroline, Abigail, Harvey, Pam – the bus driver from my nightmares – and Penny. In the evening, I had hit the Stardrop Saloon and met even more people: Shane, Leah, Elliott. My head swam with all of their names, and I had made a note to fill out my checklist with basic sketches of them. Had all of them been pleasant? Goodness, no, but at least they had all introduced themselves and exchanged a few words with me. I had talked to more people tonight than I had in the last week of my time in the city.

There were a surprising number of people around my age living here, and I realized that there was a real potential that I could have friends here. I had had friends in Zuzu City when I was younger, but virtually all of them had moved away to bigger cities and we hadn't kept in touch. I recalled sitting at my computer, cursor poised to click a name in my instant messenger, but never following through. Socialization was a tricky thing sometimes.

It was 11:00pm by the time I was back on my farm and done planting my new seeds. The moon was out, casting a magnificent glow on everything, and the air was still. I knew that I should go inside and rest up for tomorrow, but the quietude was beautiful and boundless. I felt the wilderness seep into me, from the rustling of grass in the wind, to the chirps of nighttime creatures. I took a deep breath. This was what it was all about. Today had been a fine day.


	3. Chapter 3 - Innocent Inappropriateness

I was sitting in my cubicle. The air was filled with the sounds of keys being rapidly pressed and unhappy sighs from my co-workers. Just another day at the office. I stood up and peered over my cubicle walls. The room was empty. Not a soul was here, and yet the phantom sounds continued. Confused, I sat down at my desk and opened our work chat application. Everyone was online.

I fired off a message to my co-worker Linda who sat behind me usually: _Where is everyone?_

It took a second for a reply to come: _What do you mean? We're all here. We always have been. What's the matter with you?_

Without warning, a terminal window opened on my computer and a command prompt appeared, the cursor blinking up at me. Gibberish began to fill the screen and scroll by. I mashed the keys on my keyboard, but to no avail. It wouldn't stop.

I stood back up, this time looking back at where Linda usually sat. She was at her desk, hunched over something, her notebook probably. The top of her dark head was all I could see as she focused on her work.

"Linda," I began, stepping closer. I was at the cubicle wall dividing us, peering down at her. "Linda, what's going on?"

Her head swivelled up and I let out a scream. Where there should have been rich, hazel eyes, were two large gaping black holes. Her mouth hung open, framed by dry drool. Her skin was grey, decayed. She smelled like death and rage and loneliness.

"No!" I shouted, sitting up in my bed. My heart throbbed in my chest and I was covered in a cold sweat. It had been a dream. I looked around me. The faintest glow of sunrise had filtered in and I felt relief that I was here, and not in my bed at my parents' house, getting ready for another day of work at Joja Corp. No, I was in Stardew Valley, and I was safe.

I got up and lit the fireplace. I sat on the floor in front of it, hugging my knees to my chest. I had been here for a week now. It had been a week riddled with nightmares, most of which had involved either the townsfolk jeering at me or Joja Corp existing. I shivered inadvertently. It was going to be a slow start this morning.

I took my time by the fire, watching through the window as the sky transitioned from dawn to day. I thumbed through my journal, touching up the sketches I had done of the wizard, Maru, and Leah. I was so close to completing that first task I had given myself, but one portrait remained, one checkbox was still unchecked. It was nearly 9am before I left the house.

In terms of farming, I was doing much better than I had on day 1. My crops were showing signs of life, and I had learned that there were ways other than farming that I could make money. Foraging and mining were what occupied my nights. It was only when I had worked myself to exhaustion that I was able to sleep dreamlessly. I had failed myself last night, opting to fish instead of mine or forage. I had gone to bed before exhausting myself fully. Perhaps my parents could send some of my books out here, then I could at least whittle down my energy reading until 2am. This place was starting to feel like home, but I was still missing my creature comforts – books, video games, music. With them came memories and whispers of my life back in the city, but maybe I could get them sent out here piecemeal so as not to fuel my nightmares.

It took me less than half an hour to water all my crops, and I fell into the routine I had created for myself in the last week: clearing up more land until about 12 noon, wandering onto the beach to scavenge for shells, then fishing until I became too frustrated. This usually took me into the thick of the afternoon, but today fishing had left me more frustrated than usual and I had given up after 2 failed bites.

"Isn't the sea marvellous today?"

I whirled around to face the voice. It was Elliott. This was my third or fourth time running into him. Thankfully news of my parsnip failures had not reached him, or perhaps he didn't care. Either way, I appreciated his talking to me, though I suspected sometimes it was more that he was musing aloud to himself and I just happened to be in earshot.

He stood a few feet away, keeping a friendly but cautious distance. "It isn't treating me very kindly today," I sighed. "How are you today?"

He shook his head slightly, a frown tugging at his lips. His long hair flowed in the air around him as a sea breeze hit us. "I should be writing, but I cannot."

I gave him an inquisitive look, but he said no more, only staring out at the sea.

Not knowing what else to say, I uttered a quiet farewell and headed into town. I was done with the sea for today.

"Ew," Haley said as I walked past her. I felt a blush creep up my neck and I refused to look at her, though I could feel her gaze on me, assessing my clothes, my gait. I had to get away.

Without acknowledging where I was going, I took a turn and veered out of town. The sun was out in full force and my backpack was feeling heavy. I had taken to the bad habit of keeping everything I found and picked up.

My feet took me on a path past the general store, past the community centre, and up onto the mountain. I contemplated doing some mining. There was something strangely comforting about that cave. Maybe it was the cool darkness, something akin to the shadows in the overhangs of buildings. Maybe it was the fact that it had an elevator in it – a reminder of the city and its skyscrapers lined with elevators. Those elevators were full of people, though. This one felt private, almost like it was mine and mine alone. I had not seen anyone else in these caves.

I was too restless now to mine, and I stopped in front of the carpenter's house. She ran her business out of her house, didn't she? I groped around in my pocket. I had managed to save up a few thousand gold by eating what I had foraged and selling everything else. Perhaps I could enlist the carpenter's services. I had a flash of memory seeing the buildings grandpa had had on the farm, in particular the tall, towering silos that had stood guard and beckoned me to climb them. I had never been allowed to, but I had dreamt of it at one point.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the front door. The inside resembled the general store in that it was all wood and the style was akin to a log cabin. Likely the two buildings had been built by the same person. The carpenter stood behind a counter, her expression neutral.

"Hi there," I approached the counter. "You're Robin, right?"

The woman on the other side stared at me, her auburn hair glistening in the light. Her face was a mask of apprehension. "Yes, I'm Robin. And you're that new farmer. Have you met everybody yet?"

"No, not yet." My tone was apologetic; everyone wanted me to meet everyone, but I was at 27 out of 28. That last person was proving to be incredibly elusive and I was starting to hate them for it.

She shrugged. "That seems rather tiring, I admit." She became less wary after my response, but there was still some reservation in her eyes "Anyway," she said coolly, eyeing me, "what can I do for you, _farmer_?" She emphasized the word, making it clear that my credibility was in question. Word must've gotten up here even about the parsnip fiasco, or maybe I really was failing to assimilate. I looked down at what I was wearing. Dark, tight-legged jeans and an old band tee – maybe not typical farmer attire, but at least I hadn't worn my holey combat boots. Today I had settled on a pair of red sneakers. Perhaps that had been my fatal flaw.

"Your house is beautiful," I said, swallowing noisily, stalling.

"I built it myself," Robin stated, pride etched her words. "Thank you." She gave me an expectant look, matter-of-fact once more.

It was time to make my request. "I'd like to hire you to build a silo out on my farm." I kept my hands clasped in front of me on top of the counter, hoping they would stop shaking. I wanted so badly to be liked in this town, but so far people seemed to keep me at a distance, and some were downright rude. The initial excitement people had had at meeting the "new farmer" had worn off quickly. I hadn't expected it to be so hard – weren't people in small towns supposed to be friendly and more genuine? Maybe the ugly truth was that people were genuinely selfish, regardless of the setting. My heart ached for Zuzu City at that moment, the void in me hungry for lights and noise.

"You'll have to provide me with some materials," Robin said, hauling a catalogue up onto the counter.

"Not a problem," I said, and looked down at the page she had opened the catalogue to. I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I turned and lifted my head, but it was gone.

"What's wrong?" Robin asked, frowning.

"It's just," I began, wrestling over how much I should tell her, "I thought I saw something in my periphery down the hall. Something dark. But it's gone now." I shook my head slightly. She probably thought I was crazy and my reputation in this town was besmirched for the rest of time. No great loss, I supposed, since my reputation was in the pits already.

"Oh, that's my son Sebastian," Robin said, shrugging. "First marriage," she clarified. Her tone had brightened a surprising amount. "He lives in the basement, but only really comes up for food, and," she looked at the clock, "now would be his usual feeding time."

"Okay," I said evenly, as though everything she'd said made perfect sense. "I don't believe I've met him before." Voilà, checkbox number 28.

Robin nodded. "I'm not surprised. He's not one to come out and socialize, not even for new blood." She stepped out from behind the counter. "Come, you should meet him before he disappears back downstairs."

I hesitated, but followed. If Sebastian was anything like his mother, it would be a straightforward meeting at least.

Robin led me down a hallway to a junction, and then turned left. I caught a glimpse of a lab as we rounded the corner. We walked past some closed doors – likely bedrooms – and ended up in a small kitchen. Standing by the sink was who could only be Sebastian. He looked unlike anyone else in the town. Somehow it made sense why I had not met Sebastian until now. He wore a black hoodie over black jeans. His hair was long enough that his bangs hung over part of his face. I could see his mother in his build and facial features – lean, pleasant, but furtive. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, perhaps my age. I tried not to stare, but his gaze met mine and we awkwardly greeted each other. Awkward creatures interacting with one another was always such a gamble. My expectation was another losing hand.

"Sebby, this is the new farmer in the valley," Robin explained, giving her son an unexpectedly warm smile.

"I'm from Zuzu City," I said, rushing to clear the air before more disapproving glances were thrown my way, "I lived there all my life. I don't know how to dress like a farmer, which is why I'm dressed like this, and no I didn't know how to plant parsnip seeds, but I do now." My face flushed and I dropped my gaze. It was even more embarrassing now that I had stated this all so plainly out loud. I knew that Robin was staring at me. Sebastian was as well, but his look was more pensive than his mother's, which had cycled through disgust, reproach, and pity.

"Well, that explains that," Robin said finally, and I knew that her cheery demeanour was a show put on for her son. "Why don't we get back to talking about the materials I need for that silo?"

"Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?" Sebastian asked suddenly.

I looked from him to his mother and back again. Robin shrugged, cast a curious glance at Sebastian, and left the room.

I exhaled once she was gone, feeling relief now that the main judgemental force was removed. I turned and faced Sebastian. Sunlight trickled in through the window over the stove, giving him a weird glow that clashed with the darkness of his outfit and hair. His features were really far less offensive than I had expected of a basement-dwelling hermit.

"Yes, I chose Pelican Town." I could not keep my defensiveness out of my voice.

"Why?" His tone was deliberate.

"My grandfather left me his farm. He wrote this letter telling me about how it had become a sanctuary for him, a reprieve from the soul-crushing corporate life he had in the city." I shrugged and crossed my arms, "It didn't mean much to me as a kid, but after I graduated and started my first job at Joja Corp, it started making sense to me. I kept that letter in my desk at work as a reminder that I always had a way out. And one day, after the project I was working on got scrapped and I was given the most menial data entry task ever, I just snapped." I sighed. The words had come out in a strangely seamless river. I hadn't thought much about grandpa's letter in the last week, but I should have been. After all, I was here now for a reason. I couldn't lose sight of that. My grandpa loved me, and he had made sure to care for me even after his death. I was lucky to have that.

Sebastian studied a tile on the floor, then looked up at me. "That's a good reason." He briefly toyed with something in his mind. "I've been thinking of moving to Zuzu City," he said softly. He seemed to be trying out the words and the idea, a tease at a confession. His dark eyes met mine. He didn't have to say what his question was, and I sensed that he was not comfortable enough to ask me. That was fair. I was just a stranger to him, and he to me.

I shrugged again, trying to be nonchalant, though my mind still sifted through what I'd told him just before. "It's not for everybody. I mean, there's a ton of differences between small town and big city life. I don't think I know them all yet, but they're there – some subtle, some obvious."

"Maybe you can tell me about them as you figure them out," he said. He was deep in thought, but his statement had not been made flippantly. It was almost as though his words had slipped out and he wasn't quite aware of it yet.

"Sure," I nodded. "Maybe you can teach me about small town life and I can teach you about big city life." I chuckled at the absurdity of my words, but he gave me a small smile all the same.

"That sounds good." He stiffened as he said this, unsure of what he had just agreed to. I couldn't blame him, really.

"Cool, well, I'm going to get back to your mom now," I gestured at the door. "She said that she built this house, which is absolutely amazing. She's got to be really good with her hands. I'm asking her to erect a silo on my land."

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow at me, unable to help himself. "Yeah, okay. Anyway, I've got work to do."

A sudden realization came over me as he made for the doorway. "Oh Yoba, I didn't mean to say it like that about your mom. The innuendo – shit, shit, shit. I can never live this down, ever. I'm so sorry, that came out all wrong and dirty." I covered my face with my hands. Mortification spilled over me in a bright, hot blush. It was over, the jig was up. This city slicker was doomed to the concrete jungle for the rest of time. I pictured myself hammering a sign into the ground in front of my farm – "For Sale" – as the townsfolk cheered and laughed at me.

Sebastian smirked. "Don't worry, I won't tell a soul," he said, and slipped out of sight.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Curious Coffee Conundrum

I had found a rhythm to my days. Every morning I would tend to my crops, clear some more land, and add more hay to my silo. Before leaving the farm, I would check the tappers I had put on the pine, maple, and oak trees I had opted not to chop down. The afternoons depended on the weather and whatever I felt like doing: foraging, fishing, mining, or socializing.

The 2-week mark was rapidly approaching, but I was aware that I had made some progress in developing some skill. Fishing was still frustrating more often than not, but mining was great stress relief, and foraging was getting easier every time. I had collected a number of daffodils and horseradish, my offerings of friendship to the folks in town. Socialization was not really a skill in the traditional sense, but I felt like I was improving on that as well.

It had occurred to me after visiting Robin and Sebastian that day that the people of Pelican Town had their own schedules, even though the rush of the city didn't exist here to push or pull them. Some folks only left their homes after 10am, others wandered up to the mountains in the afternoons, and I was in the process of trying to learn all of their routines.

Meeting Sebastian and completing my checklist had given me a strange peace of mind; my nightmares had lessened in their frequency and severity. It had also renewed my optimism in terms of making friends here, not that Sebastian and I had particularly hit it off. It was his friend Sam actually, who had started treating me like a pal first.

I knew that this was in part due to Sam's openness and friendliness. The guy made no effort to hide his hobbies and passions – I had run into him a few times on his skateboard, and heard him on his guitar while visiting his mom, Jodi. He was also one of the handful of people who didn't seem to give a damn that I had ruined some parsnip seeds on my first day.

It was also incredibly easy to make him happy. The last time I had dropped by, I had been eating some pizza that I'd bought at the saloon. Sam had given me puppy eyes as soon as he'd smelled my food, and I had relented, sharing half of it with him. He had been over the moon with joy.

This afternoon, he was in the town by the mayor's house, gazing at the river. He seemed to be watching the fish drifting lazily by, or lost in his own thoughts. I wasn't sure if I should disturb him, but he looked up and saw me before I could decide to walk away.

He greeted me with a large grin. "Oh, hi! It's good to see you again."

I bobbed my head in response. "Yeah, good to see you, too. How's it going?"

He shrugged. "The usual. Work sucks, but I need the money. How about you?"

"I'm alright. Figuring out how to do my own thing."

"That's good."

We both looked at the river. A particularly large fish floated near the surface, a smaller fish tail sticking out of its mouth.

"Cannibal," I murmured, crouching down for a better look. "You disgusting little fiend."

Sam crouched down beside me. "What did you say?"

"I called it a fiend," I turned to him.

"Ah, my hearing must be going or something. I thought you said 'bean'."

I frowned. "You really should protect your hearing. Getting better quality headphones might help with giving you better detail without having to raise the volume."

He shrugged. "It's fine. I'd rather put the money for those headphones towards guitar maintenance, like new strings or picks. I keep losing picks so those are more of a money sink than they should be." He scratched the back of his neck.

I thought for a moment. "I should ask my mom to send my old picks. That'd at least pad your supply a bit."

He stared at me. " _You_ have guitar picks?"

"I took Guitar for a year in middle school." A thought occurred to me. Did schools here not have guitar classes? Were there even schools out here? I knew that Penny taught Vincent and Jas now, but what would happen when they got older?

Sam blinked a few times and I held my breath. When he spoke, his face just beamed. "You know how to play the guitar? Alright, that is awesome, we can be like guitar buddies or something!"

I held up my hands, trying to stop him, but not wanting to extinguish his enthusiasm. "It's been years since I've touched a guitar, I don't remember much."

"It's like riding a bike, you can never forget," Sam said, but his smile drooped a little. "Hey, it's okay if you're scared of being bad compared to me. I'm only kind of good. I'm sure you could do as well as me if you started playing again."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm totally fine not playing the guitar ever again. I've kind of given up on the idea of being any sort of musician. Not my thing."

Sam brought his hand to his chin, stroking it as he thought. "Hmm, well, if you don't want to be a musician, maybe I can recruit you to do something else."

"Recruit me?"

"Yeah!" He beamed at me again and I felt that familiar sinking feeling begin to pull on my insides. "I'll have to think about it, but it's going to be great."

"Sure," I said meekly.

"Maybe this Friday we can – oh, I almost forgot. The Egg Festival's happening this Friday. Are you excited?" His smile only grew larger somehow.

"The what festival?" I gave him a dubious look.

"What, are you going deaf too? Egg."

I ignored his question. "What is the Egg Festival?"

"You don't have this in the city?" He snickered. "The city seems so lame sometimes."

"If you explain it to me, I can tell you if we have something similar maybe." I bit my tongue, hoping that would quell some of the annoyance that simmered within me.

"Okay, sure," he shrugged. "So the moms are all busy right now painting eggs with all these nice patterns, and then on the morning of, Mayor Lewis hides the eggs in spots all over town. At 9am the festival starts and everyone gathers here, and whoever wants to take part goes and gets as many eggs as they can in 50 seconds." Sam looked smug and I resisted the urge to clock the guy in his smug-ass face.

"Well," I began, picking some lint off my shirt, "we have something like that held in Kora Park sponsored by some insurance company. It's mostly for kids to do and there are prizes based on how many eggs you get, things like chocolate bunnies, marshmallow chicks, a permit to own a pet chicken, weird stuff like that."

Sam still looked unimpressed, though his confidence did seem a little bit shaken. "I was right. The city is pretty lame sometimes."

"And you're pretty lame _most_ of the time," I retorted, unable to contain myself any longer.

Sam snorted and burst into laughter. I stood beside him with my arms crossed. I had had enough socialization with him today, it seemed.

"Okay," I said loudly, but he continued to laugh, tears starting to form at the corners of his eyes. "I'm going now. I have many important things to do today. Good-bye."

"Take it easy," he called after me, composing himself just long enough to say that before bursting out laughing again.

Ass.

In all honesty, I was looking forward to the Egg Festival, and didn't care how it compared to the version taking place at Kora Park. This would be my first event in the valley, and it seemed like it'd be a great opportunity to mingle and talk to my fellow townsfolk – minus Sam. I could practically see how insufferable he would be that day, probably laughing at me every time I saw him.

The afternoon sun was clouded over today, and the wind blustered through the trees. Pollen and petals filled the air and I stopped to catch a few. I wondered if my farm was going to be covered in petals as well, and I rushed off to check.

I had been right in suspecting that the petals would be everywhere on the farm, but the wind didn't seem to let them settle on any of my crops for very long. There would be no point in trying to brush them off until the wind had died down.

I turned, ready to head inside to warm myself by the fire and drop things off in a chest, but spied a certain flag up on my mailbox. Eager, I made my way over to it.

I hadn't noticed on my way in, but a box had been placed just in front of the mail box, and the writing on it matched that of the letter tucked inside my mailbox. My mother's handwriting, of course. The letter read:

 _Hey you! Kid!_

 _I managed to get a package together of goodies! Well, it's really only 1 goodie, but you'll understand once you open the box. Your father is unhappy with the package I put together, but too bad, he did_ _zero_ _legwork to put it together, so he has no say. Anyway, we got your message about the books and CDs and things, so I've tasked your father with handling that. If you don't start receiving your books and things in the next week or so, please direct all ire towards him not me._

 _(In regards to what's in the box: it's legit, I swear!)_

 _Love always,_

 _Mom_

I was intrigued now. Tucking the letter into my back pocket, I knelt down and ripped open the box. The contents left me dumbfounded.

My mom had somehow managed to send me coffee. I couldn't complain, really. She had been considerate enough to get it from my favourite coffee shop in the city, quite a feat actually since they tended to run out due to the exclusivity of the coffee beans, and yet she had managed to send 10 cups of it – 10 cups of brewed coffee, each bottled and sealed so as to keep the liquid in and the inside of the box dry. I tried not to grimace at the sketchy makeshift labels my mom had put on the bottles. She had taken Zuzu Bean's signature coffee cups, cut off the bottoms, and slid them over the bottles. My mother, she was a madwoman.

I was at a loss for what to do. Sure, I liked Zuzu Bean's coffee, but I couldn't drink all of it on my own before it went stale. I slowly packed a few bottles into what free space remained in my backpack. As I looked at the Zuzu Bean logo on one, an idea occurred to me.

I dashed off for the mountain.

"Hi Robin, the silo's great. Bye Robin," I said as I slipped inside the carpenter's house and flew past her.

"Thank you…?" Her voice trailed off behind me as I rounded the corner and slowed my pace. I continued down the hall to the kitchen at a much more normal speed.

Sebastian looked up from where he stood by the stove. "Oh, hi." His expression remained impossibly bored.

"Hey," I said. "I have something I thought maybe you'd be interested in."

He said nothing, but raised his eyebrows. I took that as acceptance of my surprise. I reached into my backpack for a bottle. "Pass me a mug," I said, not looking up. "Please," I added.

I heard a cupboard open and close, and a mug was set down on the table.

"Thanks," I said, offering him a smile as I looked up. My breath caught as my eyes took him in. The clouded sunlight from the window cast a grey light on him – poor man's moonlight. It highlighted the angles of his face, his cheekbones, his jaw, and made his dark hair shine. He looked otherworldly and fantastical, like a creature who didn't quite belong here. No wonder he spent most of his time inside and in his basement bedroom. For a split second, I longed to see what his room looked like.

His gaze met mine and I stumbled back into reality. I did my best to keep a steady hand as I poured some coffee from the bottle into the mug. I ignored his bemused look as he took in my mom's label on the bottle.

"The label's my mom's doing," I sighed. "She wanted to make sure I knew where the coffee was from, I guess. Don't you dare laugh at my mother."

He blinked at me. "I wouldn't," he frowned. "I was just curious."

"Oh, okay, good." I knew my cheeks had reddened, but he didn't seem to notice.

"So," he said, pulling me out of my embarrassment, "what is it?"

"It's coffee from Zuzu Bean, a café in downtown Zuzu City," I explained, and handed the mug to him. Our fingers brushed during the exchange and I thought he might flinch or draw back, but he didn't. "It's okay if you don't like it. I don't want you to feel obligated. I just thought maybe you'd like to try some of the city's best coffee, y'know before you ever decide to move there or something."

He gave it a tentative sniff before taking a sip. I tried not to watch, but I was intrigued by what his reaction might be.

His face remained stoic, and he seemed to ponder the taste for a good 10 seconds. "Thanks," he said finally. "I like this."

A rush of relief overtook me and I let out a breath I had unknowingly been holding.

"But I have to say," he said, "it tastes an awful lot like the coffee from the Saloon."

"Wait, what?"

He took another sip. "It tastes like the coffee from the saloon," he said again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I gave him a look somewhere between a glare and some manifestation of disbelief.

He smirked and I wondered briefly how often he gave those out. I had seen two now, which felt substantial. "No, I'm not," he said, his dark eyes dancing. "I'm starting to wonder if they use the same beans."

"No way. Nuh-uh, that is not possible. Impossible." I violently shook my head.

He shrugged, but a mischievous smile played around his lips.

"Okay, well," I started to zip up my backpack. "I'm going to go ask Gus where his beans are from. Maybe he uses Zuzu Bean's beans." I chewed my bottom lip as I swung my bag onto my back. I struggled with a strap.

"Report back tomorrow," he said, reaching out and holding the rogue strap still for me. His tone was solemn.

"Th-thanks," I stammered, pleasantly surprised that he had felt comfortable enough to aid me. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

He nodded, and I turned and left before he could do any more nice things for me. My heart was palpitating harder than it should have been.


	5. Chapter 5 - Enter, Stage Right: Dog

"Oh, yes, about that," Gus began with a chuckle. "Zuzu Bean actually gets their coffee beans from us."

"What?" I staggered back, dumbstruck.

"We roast the beans and create the blends." Gus shrugged. "Used to grow them out here too, but that was back when your grandfather was manning the farm. We've been chipping away at the beans he left for us. They've become rather exclusive, you know."

"No way," I sputtered, shaking my head. "There is no way."

Gus gave me a devilish grin. "Oh, but there is. You cityfolk have no idea. In fact," he leaned in close, "we could use your help growing some more beans. I can give you a bean to get started and once you get the equipment, you can make it yourself even."

I gaped at him. This was all too much. "Me? Make – coffee? Maybe – some other time? Grandpa?" My head was reeling and my heart was as black as the coffee I had in my backpack.

He patted my hand reassuringly. "Of course, take some time to consider it."

I nodded mutely and he left to tend to another patron. The saloon had filled up by the time I left it, some hours later. I had spent much of time there alone, in a daze. I vaguely recalled listening to some of my neighbours' daily grumblings, but none of it stuck in my head. They had mostly seemed to want a willing listener anyway, not a repartee partner.

Sitting in front of my fireplace, I sorted through my thoughts. I felt betrayed, like I'd been taken for a fool. But it wasn't just me, it was everybody in Zuzu City – everyone believed that this was some rare, artisanal coffee. Oh, it was rare alright. It was rare because my grandpa was dead. I tried not to think about all of the money I had spent at Zuzu Bean. I mean, it was good coffee, sure, but after seeing the price of it at the saloon here, it seemed completely unreasonable for Zuzu Bean themselves to charge 475g for a single cup of the stuff.

The sky had cleared up during the evening, so the moon and stars were visible against the navy blue backdrop. Just 4 hours away, the same moon and stars lay above Zuzu City – city of liars and tricksters. It was mind-blowing how bright and clear the moon and stars were here. I had never quite grasped how much light pollution there was in the city. Thinking about the place sickened me to the core right now, a visceral pain that threatened to take me under. I stumbled outside and sat down on the steps of my front porch.

I took a deep breath of the still, night air. The freshness cleaved my thoughts and I wobbled with relief. In and out, I took my time enjoying the pure air filling my lungs. I had a bad feeling that I'd have a nightmare tonight if I slept now, so I pulled myself to my feet and went to work clearing out some more land. A peacefulness settled in me and I had no dreams that night.

The next morning, I was greeted by a knock on my door.

Not quite awake, I dragged myself over to open it. On my doorstep was Marnie.

"Good morning, farmer," she grinned up at me, bits of straw already caught in her rich brown hair.

"Morning, Marnie," I yawned, but covered my mouth with a hand.

"I know it's early, but I wanted to make sure I caught you before you headed out for the day." I noticed that her hands were behind her back.

"What can I help you with?" I tried not to give her a suspicious look, but her expression was sheepish and guilty as hell.

"Well, you see here, I have a dog that has no home. I can't possibly take another one on at my ranch. The last pup we had – it broke Jas's heart when he passed away. I can't do that again to her, and Shane agrees." From behind her back, she brought out a brown dog. It was a mutt of some sort, with soft floppy ears and a black button nose. It was a medium-sized dog, which was a nice change from all of the tiny lapdogs I was used to seeing being carried around in the city.

I hesitated. "I'm not sure, Marnie."

"I mean, you don't got to take him, but if you do, I'm sure he will be happy and well-behaved. His temperament seems kind."

The dog looked up at me with such hope and excitement, a string of drool hanging off the side of his mouth. Then he turned on the puppy eyes, and it hit me like a laser beam directed at the block of ice that was my heart. I knew I was done for. "Okay, I'll take him," I said finally.

"Great!" Marnie grinned and put the dog down. I watched him take off from the front porch and race around, dodging the trees and boulders I still hadn't cleared out yet.

"What will you name him?" Marnie asked kindly.

I chewed my bottom lip. "I shall call him Dog, for now."

"An original name."

Was that a hint of snark? I peered at her. She gave me her usual, bright smile. Marnie seemed too kind for snark. "Thanks," I said, mustering up the energy to smile. "I'll take good care of him."

She beamed as she waved good-bye. I closed the door.

I had expected for my feelings of being overwhelmed to lessen over time as I lived out here, but that didn't seem to be the case. A fresh hell seemed to present itself every few days, and as I looked at my new pet, I tried not to think about how I had no idea how to care for a dog. I didn't have pets growing up as my mom was allergic to most furry creatures, and here I was adopting an animal I had no strong feelings for. I went outside and watched Dog roll around in the grass. How hard could it be?

After watering my crops, I filled his water bowl and chased him down. Dogs enjoyed being pet, I was sure, so I give him a small pat on the head before I headed into town.

Thoughts of yesterday came flooding into my head as I saw the saloon. I veered away from it and headed north. I took my time, picking daffodils and dandelions along the way to the mountain. I even went into the abandoned community centre. There had been some sort of motion to sell it to Joja Corp, but that had fallen through. Apparently they had needed one more membership in order to seal the deal, but I had decided to withhold that from them. It felt good to stick it to Joja in some way. I almost felt powerful.

Sebastian wouldn't be out his room yet, so I spent some time fishing by the lake. Linus was nearby, but did not disturb me. I could hear his whistling and humming, and as I took the long way to Sebastian's house, I heard the crackle of a fire by his tent. I popped by and we exchanged a few meaningless words. Someone had destroyed his tent – I had no idea who would do that – neither did he.

As I entered the building, I gave Robin a wave, and she beamed at me. Apparently my patronage had won her over despite her initial misgivings. _Money talks_ , I thought dryly. Or maybe she was just thankful that someone deigned to talk to her son. Mothers were funny creatures like that.

I retraced my steps from yesterday, walking down the hallway to the kitchen. Just as I had expected, he was there, and my heart thudded with anticipation. Sometime in the past week, I had set my heart on befriending this strange creature. I still wasn't sure why, but Robin certainly wasn't the reason. It was likely, I thought to myself, because he seemed like a normal person. He was wary, not overly friendly, but not extraordinarily rude. And funnily, I felt as though our conversations – as short as they were – went beyond that level of shallow smalltalk. I had always struggled with that stage when trying to make friends. It had always been so hard getting to the core of a person, past those flowery, filler words. But depth came naturally to our discourses somehow. And, I reminded myself coolly, he was interested in the city.

"Hi… need something?" he asked distractedly. He was boiling something on the stove, eyeing it as it bubbled.

I frowned as I took him in, stepping closer.

"Holy shit, what happened to you? Are you alright?" He was wearing a black t-shirt that revealed a series of red, angry cuts on his arms. They didn't look like clean cuts, but rather like he'd been attacked by something. Without thinking, I reached out a hand, but his eyes widened and I stopped.

"What are you doing?" he sputtered, his cheeks flushing. "I don't really know you."

"Shit, I'm sorry." I backed away and decided not to mention the instinctive pull I had felt to tend to his wounds. He was right, we barely knew each other. What was wrong with me? "I should go," I muttered, and turned to leave, my head hanging with shame. I had made it almost to the doorway when he spoke.

"I snuck into the caves last night and got a nasty cut from a rock crab. Don't tell anyone, okay?" I stopped mid-step and turned. His eyes bore into me intensely, the look of discomfort gone from his face.

I nodded. "Okay. I promise not to, but I'd love to hear about it." I paused. Had I pushed the boundaries with him too much by saying that? I hated this. Words just spilled out of me when I talked to Sebastian, always pushing, reaching, grasping for any shred of him in return. "But you don't have to if you don't want to. It's just that I love exploring those caves. Something about them is… comforting," I finished lamely. I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell him about the calm tranquility that mining in those caves gave me. It seemed abnormal, but at the same time, hinting to him that I was abnormal didn't seem altogether like a bad thing.

He nodded slowly. "I feel the same way about the caves." He flicked a dial on the stove and removed the pot from the element.

A wave of relief washed over me. Maybe we were still on track to be friends. _Just friends_ , I emphasized to myself in my head. "Cool," I said. "I felt weird saying it, so I'm glad you understand."

He gave me a hesitant smile and a warmth fluttered in my chest. "I just went in there last night. I don't care to take up mining as a hobby, but I like the coolness of the caves, and some of the stones in there are neat-looking."

"Yeah, I agree, except I do the mining part." I shrugged. "The ores are useful for upgrading my tools, and it's kind of satisfying smashing open rocks."

"Fair enough." He transferred the contents of the pot into a bowl. It looked like instant noodles, and I couldn't help being a little endeared by that. I thought about the raw leek I ate for breakfast. I could relate.

A thought occurred to me. "How did you run into a rock crab? They usually aren't in the top two levels of the mine."

He shrugged. "The elevator is working now. I took it down to the fifth floor just to see what was there."

"Fifth floor?" A sense of panic filled me. "Shit, I'm the reason why you got hurt."

"How so?"

"I've gotten the elevator to go down as far as I've explored. It makes it easy for me to get back to where I was. I didn't realize that anyone else went in the caves. I didn't even think to leave a sign or note or anything."

Noticing my distress, he said, "Hey, don't worry about it. It's not your fault I got hurt. It's mine. I know that it gets dangerous further down, and I knew not to go down any further than that. I just wasn't very careful. Okay?"

I had to look away. "Okay." I let out a quiet sigh. I was still incredibly disappointed with myself. I felt responsible, and there was no way I could shake that right now, not while his arms were covered in those angry, red marks. My stomach felt like a pit, and I was going to collapse in on myself. I bit the inside of my lip in hopes of controlling my distress.

"So," he began, flustered that I was suddenly the ruler of darkness and bad moods and not he, "the coffee."

"Oh right." I had almost forgotten.

He smiled tentatively.

"You were right. They're the same beans." I let him bask silently in his correctness for a moment before continuing, "Gus said that he provides the beans to Zuzu Bean. They were originally grown by my grandpa, but since that supply's gone, Gus has been very slowly making it through the rest."

Sebastian nodded slowly. "That makes sense."

"Does it?" I couldn't keep the frustration out of my voice. "I feel so betrayed. Zuzu Bean touts their coffee as some artisanal, local, hipster-quality treasure. And what do they use? My grandpa's beans. It's ludicrous. They're liars." I stopped suddenly, hyper aware of myself ranting. "Sorry, I got carried away. It's been bothering me a lot. I did a lot of thinking last night."

Sebastian nodded, indicating for me to continue. He stirred his noodles with a fork.

"I've decided that I'm boycotting Zuzu Bean. They are traitors and liars." My face was heated, the raw anger from my disappointment still not quelled. For a brief moment I was afraid that Sebastian would react to my untenable rage, but he was nonplussed. There was an instant when it looked like he might speak, but opted not to, letting his mouth assume that smirk of his I had grown to—

"Do you want the rest of the coffee my mom sent me?" I asked quickly, pleadingly.

He shrugged, letting his smirk slip as he waved a hand over his bowl.

"I'm taking that as a yes, I don't care how much you hate me. I am giving you the rest of this godforsaken coffee." I paused, the hot power in my veins cooling off abruptly. "And I can only bring them to you one at a time… I'm out of space in my backpack…"

He shrugged again, but a smile flitted around his lips.

"Okay, it's decided then." I pulled off my backpack and handed him a bottle of the traitorous coffee.

"Thanks," he said. "I–"

"No, you have no choice," I cut him off.

He looked amused, but didn't say anything more. I could tell he was getting restless and tired of socialization. I didn't blame him; we had spent the last half hour talking about this godawful coffee and my carelessness in the cave.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." I hefted my backpack back onto my shoulders. "And if I somehow miss you, I guess I'll see you at the Egg Festival on Friday."

He frowned. "Isn't it on Saturday?"

"It's on Friday." I frowned even deeper than him. "That's what Sam said, anyway."

His mask of calm, cool, collectedness cracked. Sebastian laughed – a genuine, honest to goodness laugh. It was a strangely pure sound, especially coming from him, but behind it was a comfortableness and camaraderie. "Sam can hardly remember how to tie his shoes. The festival is on Saturday."

I resolved in that moment to never trust anything that came out of Sam's mouth ever again. "That ass," I muttered.

Sebastian grinned, the smile even reaching his eyes, and my heart did a weird flip-flop in my chest. I made a note to punch myself later. _Friend_ , I reminded myself, _that's all_. "I don't think he meant to tell you the wrong thing. You have to cut him some slack this time."

"Fine," I huffed. "This time. Only because you said so." I headed for the hallway, my shoulders squared.

"And I don't hate you," he said quietly. I stopped moving. "In fact, if it's easier, you can visit me in my room. I don't mind."

My breath caught. Holy fuck. An invitation to visit the lord of darkness in his lair of hellfire and midnight? "You're going to regret that," I turned to give him a wave. "I am going to visit the shit out of you. Good-bye."

"Bye." I caught the edge of a tired smile before I sped off. I couldn't wait for tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6 - Two Hearts, Beating

My heart pounded as I raised my fist to the door – knuckles to wood, a quick rat-tat and a weirdly distant "Enter" muttered from beyond. I pushed the door open with a squeak.

"Oh hey," Sebastian said from behind his computer monitor. He seemed relieved. "Gimme one sec."

I nodded, thankful that I could gather my bearings. This also gave me a chance to look around. Immediately to my left was an unplugged radio. Beside it was a black loveseat. Posters hung on nearly every bit of wall possible, depicting video games and movies, the majority of which I recognized. His bed lay in the far corner, his dark bedsheets carefully made. At the foot of his bed was a small TV. I envied him; my bed was unfortunately bolted to the floor and so it was impossible for me to recreate his design choice.

In the opposite corner, there was a table with a board game on it. Three stools were laid out around it, and it looked as though a game had been abandoned mid-play. Along the wall where his bed was, sat a bookshelf that was crammed full of books, comics, and collectibles. A few graphic novels were open, facedown on the floor and I was hit by a wave of homesickness. I was reminded of my own room back in the city. It had been a lot smaller than this, but there was a bold openness in the messiness of his room that felt like his heart was bared to me, and I identified with what I saw.

The focus of the room was the table in the other corner upon which there were two computers. Sebastian was using one of them currently, but the other sat unused. Unable to help myself, I approached the computer and gave a low whistle as I took it in. His second computer was fancy and sleek, with the logo of a well-known gaming brand glinting from the side of the jewel case. I might have salivated a little thinking about gaming on it.

Overall, his room was dark as it didn't have any windows, but it felt homey and indescribably like Sebastian. There was something about the stone bricks comprising the walls that were reminiscent of a castle. I wondered vaguely if Pierre stocked any wallpapers that I could put up to simulate the experience. The prince of darkness had some decent digs.

"Okay. Sorry about that, I just needed to finish what I was working on." He stretched and yawned. He wore a black t-shirt again today, and I could see that the cuts on his arms were still red and quite raw-looking. I felt sick looking at them. He must've noticed as he crossed his arms and did his best to hide them with his hands.

"What were you working on?" My curiosity was piqued, but my enthusiasm was deflated.

He shrugged. "I do freelance work as a programmer."

I blinked. He was a programmer? A number of things clicked for me as I digested this. But before I could say anything, his brow furrowed and he was focused on his screen once more. I heard a short, urgent alert sound.

"That was an instant message from Sam… I guess he wants to hang out." He grimaced. "Ugh, I don't really feel like going out today."

I knew exactly the feeling, but didn't get the chance to say so as there was a knock on the door and his mother poked her head in.

She could not help showing her surprise. "Oh, hi! I didn't know you were in here, too." A warm, hopeful smile spread across her face.

I waved and let out a nervous laugh. I didn't know what kinds of funny ideas she was getting, and I wasn't sure how I felt about being found in Sebastian's room myself. If this was anything like the parsnip situation, I was going to be having a very bad week coming up. I silently prayed that Robin was less of a gossip than Pierre was.

"Sebby," she addressed her son. "I know you don't like it when I come in here, but I ran into Abigail at the store and she said she was looking for you."

His face took on a hardness I hadn't seen before. "Did you tell her I'm working?" Irritation laced his words and his eyebrows knitted together. This was a side of him I didn't know.

"I did," Robin began, her eyes apologetic, "but she said she'd probably stop by anyway."

Sebastian sighed heavily, and I noted a sag in his shoulders. "No one takes my job seriously."

His mom shrugged and retreated, shutting the door behind her.

"No one ever bothers Maru when she's working at the clinic," he muttered. "Does everyone think I'm just surfing the web all day?" Sebastian wasn't looking at me, and I suspected that he was speaking more to himself than to me.

I cleared my throat. " _I_ don't think you surf the web all day."

He frowned at me with disbelief, the glint of a challenge in his eyes.

I continued before he could protest. "Programming is a funny thing. Unless you do it, it's hard to really get it. It's not one of those jobs that is easy for people to understand. It's not visually distinctive – like, what makes programming look any different from someone typing out a novel or playing online poker? Just the screen in front of you, that people probably won't see."

His expression adjusted to a mix of surprise and confusion. I continued, "And I don't know about you, but I know that I have to surf the web to find documentation and example code a lot of the time. People don't get that surfing the web is such a vague and broad concept, and a lot of the time it's part of the job."

"That's true," he said simply, casting a curious glance at me. I knew what he wanted to know, though he didn't insinuate any amount of expectation. He was giving me space, leaving his question on the table to be pushed away or brought forth.

I sighed lightly. "I'd may as well tell you now," I said, biting my lower lip. My hands twisted together, my palms suddenly clammy. "I used to be a programmer. That's what I did at Joja Corp."

An understanding alit in his eyes, and he nodded slowly. I could sense that he regarded me somewhat differently now. I wondered if he had gone through what I had just moments ago – the revelation that this world of variables and algorithms could be shared with someone else in Stardew Valley. His demeanour remained cool, though the flicker of understanding warmed his gaze.

"So," I began, desperate to find a way to reroute the conversation, "do you have any plans for your programming work? Like, is doing freelance enough? I had entertained the idea of doing it myself at one point."

"Well, I'm trying to save up so I can move out of here." That wistful, distant look came into his dark eyes. "Probably to the city or something."

I nodded. Of course, that idea he had told me about when we'd first met. Knowing now that he was a programmer, the allure of the city became clearer.

"You know," he said, snapping me out of my thoughts, "if I'd gone to college I'd probably be making six figures right now… but I just don't want to be part of that corporate rat race, you know?"

"Trust me, I know." We exchanged a look that was weary and sad on both ends. Another jolt of understanding passed between us and my spine tingled.

"Well, and I guess I just feel more comfortable hidden behind the computer than dealing with people face-to-face." His face flushed and I longed to reach out and comfort him, but I didn't think we were there yet. As much as I wanted him to know that I understood those exact feelings he was talking about, I couldn't bring myself to say it, lest I betray myself.

Instead, I nodded in agreeance.

"Well, I should get back to work," he sighed again. "I need to get this module finished by tomorrow."

"Good luck. I hope the debugging is minimal. Oh, and I almost forgot again." I reached into my backpack and pulled out a bottle of coffee. I handed it to him.

"Thanks. This coffee delivery system you're doing – I like this." He smiled, a look of genuine appreciation on his face, with just a hint of mischief.

"Coffee delivery," I grumbled. "The invitation to come into your room – it was a ploy the whole time. You just wanted me to bring coffee to you."

He rolled his eyes, but grinned. "Is it so hard to believe that I legitimately granted you access to my room because I trust you?"

"Access to your lair? Yes."

" _Lair_ ," he snickered. "You're an interesting one." He grew pensive, eyeing me carefully. His elbows rested on his desk and his fingers entwined above them.

"I could say the same about you," I said moving towards the door, letting my fingers brush the surface of the desk.

Shit, did that come off as flirtatious? All I wanted was friendship, and yet our last words – there had been more behind them, I could've sworn. Perhaps it had been imagined by me, an emotion, a thought fashioned by the lonely beast in my heart. That accursed creature in its accursed home purred.

I felt my face flush a deep crimson. "Oh Yoba," I murmured, running my fingers through my hair. He continued to watch me, and I wondered how much he saw, felt. "I've gotta go," I said hastily.

He nodded, but his gaze never left me. "Alright, have a good day."

I nodded stiffly, my face still hot. "See you tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 7 - Band Practice & Dark Places

The Egg Festival came and went. Abigail had won the egg hunt, and I had not been too bothered by that. I had finally run out of coffee to give Sebastian and hadn't seen him in a few days as I was busy planning which seeds to buy for the second half of the season. I was happy for the excuse; I had been purposefully keeping my last visits to Sebastian's short, not venturing beyond greetings and good-byes. The fact that he did freelance work was enough reason not to bother him, I told myself, never mind the awkwardness our last conversation had ended with.

My first harvest had been surprisingly profitable, and I had purchased a larger backpack for myself. I was still scrimping and scraping in terms of my own meals, but I didn't mind the taste of raw leek so much when I realized that I had 5000g on me, even after buying my more spacious backpack.

"I'm getting better at this," I said happily this morning, patting Dog on the head.

He barked, though I'm not sure he even remotely understood my words. His eyes were black, blank, and soulless. I appreciated his outburst nonetheless.

A buzz had started in the town about the upcoming Flower Dance now that the Egg Festival was over. Dances weren't my cup of tea generally, and my choices for dance partners were horrifyingly limited. Haley and Alex both thought I was weird, too pale, and uninteresting – Haley still threw in random "Ew"s as I walked by while Alex told me to leave him alone. Leah, Elliott, Harvey, and Maru were all more interested in their work than in getting to know me; there was only so much one-sided conversation I could make. Shane was surly unless I plied him with beer, Abigail was irritable unless she avoided interacting with her father, and Emily was too unencumbered a soul for me to understand. Penny spent most of her time with children, and I hated children. I could not imagine Sebastian dancing, and Sam… Come to think of it, Sam was probably my best bet for a dance partner. He was still an ass, though.

The last dance I had gone to was my high school prom, so I wasn't sure what to expect, but it was the weekend before the Flower Dance when I ran into Sam in his house. I had just given his mom a potato for dinner and decided to pop into his room for a quick hello. I was mostly over the Egg Festival date mishap now, but had decided not to give the scoundrel anything unless he had monetary payment.

"Hey, farmer," he gave me his most dazzling grin. He stood by his guitar, and I wondered if I had interrupted him during his practice. "I haven't seen you in a few days."

I shrugged. "I've been busy."

"Well, are you too busy right now? I have a situation for you." He smirked and I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'd like to start a band, but I don't know what kind of music we should make. There are too many possibilities. What kind of music do you like?"

I chewed my bottom lip. "All sorts of weird things."

Sam gave me a cautious look. "That's not a kind of music."

I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Okay, how about experimental noise rock?"

His expression shifted suddenly to one of revelation. "Hey, you know what? That's exactly the kind of style I've been thinking about for the band." Sam flashed a grin.

"That's great, I guess."

"And," he shot at me with finger pistols, "you're in luck! We're just about to have a jam session."

"Jam session?" I asked blankly.

At that moment, Sebastian pushed the door open, all nonchalance and ease. "Hey Sam." He froze, his eyes growing large as he realized I was in the room as well.

"Hey Sebastian," Sam said, grinning at his surprise. "I've found us a manager."

I raised my hands and shook my head repeatedly. "No, hey, no, I did not agree to anything."

"Oh come on, you decided what kind of music we should play," Sam said, the smile still plastered on his face.

Sebastian was silent, studying me. "What did you pick?"

I swallowed. "Experimental noise rock."

He nodded slowly, haltingly. "Okay." Hesitant approval from the dark prince himself. What an achievement.

"Great!" Sam yelled, grabbing both of us and giving us a large hug altogether. My face was dangerously close to Sebastian's, but he didn't seem to mind beyond the flush that tinged his cheeks.

We broke apart finally.

"Wait," Sam said, a look of wariness on his face, "do you two even know each other?"

"Yes," Sebastian and I said at the same time. We exchanged a look and my heart thudded jarringly in my chest.

"Even better!" Sam said, all smiles. "With my guitar skills, and Sebastian's wizardry on the synthesizer, we're gonna be a screaming success. I'm convinced of it!"

I stuck around for their jam session, which didn't sound all that bad, surprisingly. It was early afternoon when I was finally able to extricate myself from Sam's room, and I headed for the mountain, ready for some time alone in the caves. The rhythm of cracking open stones tired out my mind and body, but it gave me peace. It was nearly 8pm when I emerged, my energy running precariously low.

I sat down on the grass, opting to rest under the boughs of a large pine tree. At least, that's what I thought it was. I was still trying to get up to speed on what trees were even around here. Sunset was upon us, and my breath caught as I took in the smattering of colours.

"Find anything good?" I turned and saw Sebastian standing by the lake's edge. Somehow I had missed seeing him in my exhaustion. His arms were crossed and a cigarette was balanced between his fingers. He wore his usual black hoodie.

"Mostly rocks and a decent amount of copper ore." I rummaged through my backpack. "Oh, and this other thing." I pulled out a crystal and rapidly polished it with the corner of my shirt. "Quartz." I held it out for him to see.

Sebastian whistled and crouched down beside me. The smell of tobacco filled my head, mixing pleasantly with his aftershave. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was a warmth and comfort to it that overpowered the chilliness of the evening air. "That's a good quality one."

"I didn't know you were an expert on rocks."

"I'm not," he stated flatly.

"Right. Then, how do you know it's of good quality?"

He shrugged, letting himself down to sit on the grass. "Experience. Quartz also happens to be a mineral that I don't hate."

"You have _actually_ developed hatred for certain minerals." I was unsure if I was really as incredulous as I sounded. "Man, and I thought I had issues."

He laughed, which took me by surprise. "Now I'm curious. What are your issues? Besides helping Sam pick a type of music for us to play."

I chewed my bottom lip and narrowed my eyes at him. "You agreed to the noise rock. You didn't have to." I crossed my arms and composed myself. "My issues aren't really issues. There's nothing big." I gave a half-shrug, reticent to reveal much more. "A lot of it stems from my adjusting to living here. I can't say that it's gone as smoothly as I'd hoped."

"You're only making me more curious."

I grimaced. "Alright, well, people haven't been as welcoming as I had hoped. Sure, some folks will talk to me about their work, and they'll pass on some basic tips for farming or foraging, but that's as far as they go."

Sebastian remained quiet, pre-occupied with his thoughts. He gestured for me to continue.

I shifted my weight. "I'm blowing it out of proportions, I think. It's really a non-issue." I clasped my hands over my lap. "It's only been three weeks; I'm overthinking things. I'm expecting too much of everyone and everything." I stopped and peered over at him.

His hand not holding his cigarette was supporting his chin. He absently rubbed it and finally spoke. "I think you've got an idealized vision of country life, and you're forgetting that we're all just human."

I raised my hands in despair. "I just want people to like me."

He struggled to hide a smile. "I think that's what most people want."

A boldness took control of me. "Is that what you want?"

"Of course," he said softly, and it struck me that he was offering up his vulnerability to me. He was giving me another glimpse of his heart, and I had the freedom to do as I liked with it in this instant. I felt the familiar sense of panic rise within me.

"Too bad," I said too quickly, too loudly, "because people are hideous, selfish, fickle creatures."

The vulnerability passed, the window closed. A tristesse pulled his lips, and the mask came down once more. His mask was bemused. "Why do you think that?"

I pressed my lips into a line and thought for a moment, the panic subsiding. "People only care about themselves. It doesn't matter what the setting or the environment is. It's the same everywhere."

"And what about you? Are you selfish?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation prefacing my word. "I moved out here because I am selfish. I wanted to get myself into a better situation, one where I wasn't working under some mega-corporation's thumb all day. I didn't even think about how being a farmer would affect the town or people around me, or even how it would affect my parents." I wrapped my arms around myself. "I am not a thoughtful person."

We sat in silence for a time, each of us entrenched in our own maelstrom of thoughts. The sky was more blue and purple than pink, and the first glints of starshine had begun to scintillate.

Out of the burgeoning darkness, he spoke. "I don't see it as a selfishness." Sebastian took a drag of his cigarette and blew a stream of smoke out, away from me, yet tendrils of it clung to my hair, my skin. "That's self-preservation. What would have happened if you had stayed where you were?"

I didn't answer right away. Part of me longed to keep the moment pristine and anticipatory. Another part of me wished for this night to linger on endlessly. In the calm of the dusk, my heart beat raucously.

My words were careful. "If I had stayed," I began, "I would have stayed forever. It'd be 9-to-5, plus unpaid overtime. It'd be line-ups for morning coffee, checking my phone for e-mails about system failures, and being shuffled from project to project until the financial review came in, ad nauseam. And then it'd be trepidation and weariness until the day that I find my things packed up, the red tape on my desk, and see the hunched shoulders of my co-workers that last time." I sighed lightly, taking the moment to pull myself out of remembrance. The pit inside me felt more alive than ever, and it scared me. "When you move to the city, Sebastian, don't work for a big corporation. You would become infinitesimally small, and I don't ever wish that on you."

I eyed him, rapt, in another bout of introspection. I unfolded my legs and stretched, suddenly feeling empty. I had talked far too much about myself. In doing so, I had only exhausted myself further, and could not contain the yawn that clobbered me.

"Thanks for the advice," Sebastian said. His eyes were still veiled by rumination, but he pushed himself up, his cigarette balanced between his teeth. "You need to sleep."

I nodded, unable to come up with a witty remark to lighten the mood. He offered me a hand and helped pull me up. His grip was firm and sobering. It wasn't until I was on my feet that I realized what had happened. I was thankful it was too dark to see the embarrassment plain on my face.

"Are you okay to walk back to your farm?"

I waved a hand. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm embarrassed that you helped me up even. I'm just a little tired, I'm not a wimp."

He shrugged, but a wan smile flitted across his face. I walked with him to his house, and we parted ways, our shadows waving good-bye to each other in a beam of moonlight.

My days passed in relative solitude as the town swelled with excitement. This was going to be some dance. I remained unenthused.

When the day of the Flower Dance dawned, I performed my daily crop maintenance before patting Dog on the head and heading into the woods. The townsfolk had done a nice job of decorating the place. There was a rustic charm to the many tubs of flowers placed around the perimeter of the clearing. The dancers were dressed in their outfits already, tugging at tight collars and fluffing out skirts. The men wore form-fitting blue-green jumpsuits while the women wore frilly white dresses. A few of the ladies also sported flower crowns.

Everyone was already here, I realized, and heads turned my way as I approached. I hoped that there was no expectation for me to dance today. I had been single for all of my life – I had even gone to prom without a partner. It wasn't that it hadn't bothered me, but rather that there had been less of an expectation in the city somehow. Some people were destined to wander through life without someone, and the city seemed to underscore that loneliness with every star that it blotted out.

I spoke to everyone I ran into, determined to prove some unknown point about my happiness and self-confidence. No, I did not have a partner, and no, I was not bothered by that fact. What, dancing, me? No, no, I didn't even know the dance moves, how could I possibly take part? I didn't want to sully the valley's dance with my ignorance.

When I came to Sebastian, I had to stifle a laugh. He was wearing the turquoise one-piece that the other bachelors wore, but his face was beet red. It was a nice contrast of colours, actually.

"Hi," I said stoically, facing Sebastian.

He looked at me expectantly, "…yes?"

"I believe the proper response is a greeting, not a question."

He gave me an exasperated look. "I'm not in the mood for greetings. I just want to get out of this stupid outfit and out of here."

"Fine," I said, crossing my arms. Against my wishes, my heart pounded painfully in my chest. "Do you want to dance with me?" I tried to keep my tone light and jocular. I was just trying to cheer him up, I reminded myself.

But still, I knew his answer before he said it. "There's someone else I want to dance with." There was a glimmer of apology amongst his irritation, and I saw his gaze flick towards Abigail, who stood not far away. I wonder how many chickens she had sacrificed to get Sebastian to dance with her. Perhaps she had sacrificed her father – oh no, wait, he was here at a booth selling flower-themed goods.

I shrugged. "That's cool. Whatever. I don't envy you or your dance partner. Those outfits are hideous."

"You don't need to tell me that." He looked miserable, and I took especial delight in it.

"Have fun dancing, sucker," I hissed.

He gave me a withering look, but didn't say anything in reply as the mayor signalled for the dance to start. A deep, dark part of me was satisfied that I was partner-less today. I was still marked by the city, and it felt like a scarlet letter stamped on my forehead. I did not belong here.

I stood near the back of the crowd, watching the dance. All at once I was thankful that I myself didn't have to join them, the 12 individuals twirling and waving their arms in front of me. I wasn't a fan of making a fool of myself, especially not in front of a group of people who had not quite accepted me. The physicality of dancing rubbed me raw and I could not deny a certain coldness that hit me square in the chest as I watched them. I knew that the dance didn't mean anything necessarily – people partnered up with whoever they felt comfortable being seen publicly with. Most if not all of these couples had their bases entirely in friendship, not going any deeper than that, at least as far as I knew. And I was on relatively decent terms with most of them. I had been here for less than one season, I reminded myself. I had to cut myself some slack. Friendships didn't bloom overnight, never mind romantic relationships.

But that coldness gnawed at me and I relented, letting the bite of loneliness rip through me. The beast was hungry and it whispered to me about the depths of my heart and the dark places no one would ever love. I turned away from the dance before me. There were no eyes on me, I was sure, so I quietly slipped out of the clearing.


	8. Chapter 8 - Of Dogs and Dances

The end of spring blustered by with storms and gale force winds. It was easy avoiding everyone in such weather, and I enjoyed my time outside, drinking in the rain and petrichor. The sky crackled with lightning and the hills boomed with thunder. I felt alive, and the valley was my own private escape – void of people, it was free to loom and engulf me in its majesty.

The mountain caves served as my refuge when I was sick of being wet. I had worked my way quite far down, pushing myself from morning to midnight. Iron ore was my new cohort, and I realized that I would probably have to upgrade my pickaxe soon to deal with the harder, denser rock. It was magical, the frosty chill that permeated this lower section of the mines.

Some days I clung to the shores of the beach. I had run into Sebastian once accidentally, to his surprise, but I knew now not to venture onto the docks at the western edge of the beach. All at once the valley felt small and large. I didn't feel ready to come face to face with my demons, and far too many of them came to me with Sebastian's countenance. It was unfair of me to pin my hopes of friendship solely on him. I hadn't given everyone else a chance, and yet I couldn't shake it, the strange connection I felt to him.

My dad had managed to forward some money left to me by grandpa, and along with it, a number of my books and some trinkets. I would have to purchase a bookcase, but for now my things were strewn across the floor of my house – an obstacle course of memories enshrouded in that unique feeling of possession: mine, these things were all mine. Slowly, I was building a home here.

And so we entered summer, soggy and solitary. I allowed myself a visit to Pierre for seeds, but didn't see anyone on my way there and back. I wasn't sure if it was embarrassment that drove me or reclusiveness. I did not mind being alone, either way. If anything, I had learned to appreciate Dog's company during this time more than ever.

There was a funny kind of companionship that Dog provided. Just seeing him run around, careless and thoughtless brought a smile to my lips in spite of every dark notion and mood that possessed me. He was strangely self-sufficient, gulping down tufts of grass at the edges of our property, lapping up water from the pond at the southern end of our land. On the stormier days, he stayed in and together we would lounge by the fire. I would sometimes read aloud to him – not that I had become so deluded as to think he would understand me, but because he seemed to enjoy hearing my voice. Dog did everything he desired with almost reckless abandon. There was a purity in his unswerving loyalty that kept the beast in my heart at bay. I don't know how he did it, but Dog made sure that I knew that things were okay. My nightmares were few and far between now.

As summer dried up the remnants of spring with its brilliant blue skies and fiery rays, Dog kept to the outdoors more than the indoors, and I followed. What I hadn't been expecting was for him to try and herd me towards town. With his nose he would nudge my legs until I moved in that direction. I gave him a pleading look, but it became apparent that the lazy, dog days of summer were in full swing. I made it to the first Friday of summer before deciding resignedly to pay Robin a visit. I was starting to tire of having to pick my way through the array of books to my bed each night and so it was time to buy a bookcase, anyway.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" I asked Dog. "This is all your doing, you know."

He merely looked up at me with those onyx eyes and panted. His tail slapped the ground a few times, but he remained rooted to the spot.

"Alright, I'll see you later, then." I patted him on the head and he ran in a circle around me. I couldn't help but laugh.

I left my farm and headed up the path to the mountain. I took my time, there were new things to forage along the way – grapes, spice berries, sweet peas. My procrastination was a cover for my nervousness. It felt akin to meeting everybody for the first time again, except worse. I could no longer use newness as a guise for my awkwardness.

Too soon I was at Robin's front door. I hesitated a moment before entering, taking a deep breath to gather myself.

The interior had not changed in the week or so since I had been here. Robin smiled brightly at me from behind the counter. "Hi there, farmer."

"Hello, Robin. How are you?"

"I'm well. I've been dreaming up some new carpentry projects." I saw a hint of where her son got that ethereal, dreamy look from.

Fortunately she was selling a bookcase that day, and so I made my first furniture purchase. I knew my mother would be proud and I resolved to write her a letter when I got home.

"Oh, and Sebastian's home, if you're looking for him," Robin added as I handed over my 2000g for the bookcase.

"I wasn't, but thank you. Maybe I'll say hi." I put my wallet away. She gave me a confused and distressed look so I explained, "I just don't want to distract him from his work." _And I kind of hate how much I blush when I'm around him_ , I added silently.

She nodded, relieved. "He and Demetrius were arguing last night. It got pretty nasty, and I tried to console him, but he withdrew into his room. I think he'd appreciate your company, though."

"Okay, I'll do my best," I said, and headed down the hallway. Goosebumps raised along my arms as I took the familiar turn onto the stairs leading down to the basement. I knocked on his bedroom door.

"Enter," he grumbled, a pang of tiredness cutting through his irritation.

I pushed the door open. "Hi."

He stopped and looked up abruptly, surprised and flustered. "Oh, hi."

"Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you in case you were in the middle of something," I gestured at his computer, "but your mom mentioned that you were home."

"Yeah, it's not a problem. I'm between tasks right now."

"That's cool."

Our shared pause was pregnant with the unsaid questions neither of us risked asking. We stared at each other, and I knew that I would fall into the depths of his eyes if I kept looking, inching into them.

I looked away, allowing myself to pick my way closer to him without tripping over myself. "How have you been doing?" I asked, letting my gaze fall on him once more. He was wearing a black t-shirt again, which showed off his wounds. They were healing nicely, I was relieved to see.

He gave that half-shrug of his. "I've been better. You?"

"I've been busy. My crops have been needing my attention." It wasn't a complete lie. I let my hands rest on the back of the unoccupied computer chair.

"Cool."

There was a pained look in his eyes that sliced through my ego, and a stiffness in his tone that destroyed me. He was hurt, and perhaps my recent hermetic behaviour had been the cause. A sick part of me was delighted until I remembered what Robin had told me.

"Hey," I began, "I'm sorry for not coming by during the last little while."

"It's okay, you said you were busy." A hint of annoyance highlighted his statement.

I shook my head slowly. "That's not a worthy excuse. You don't deserve to take that kind of crap from me." I hesitated and debated with myself. I could be truthful with him, or I could be guarded. Even as I resumed speaking, I wasn't sure what I would tell him. "I don't want you to think that I was avoiding you because I don't like you."

He studied me as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. I wanted to glance away just for a second, but the question was so plain in his eyes that I could not ignore it: _So why? Why were you avoiding me? Am I so awful?_

It was all my fault. I had made such a point of visiting him regularly, bringing him coffee from the city and asking about his work. I had portrayed this image of genuine caring – and I did care, I conceded, more than I should – but then I had gone cold on him. I was truly selfish.

"In all honesty," I could not stop my hands from twisting with anticipation, "I've been feeling weird since the Flower Dance." I had to look away and close my eyes for a second. My chest felt constricted, but I forced myself to breathe. I pretended that Dog was here with me, sitting by my side, encouraging me with his nose.

Sebastian said nothing and I couldn't read his expression. At least he hadn't ordered fire and brimstone to rain down on me. Tentatively, I continued, "There was something about seeing you guys all dressed up and dancing that felt like a punch in the gut. I'm an outsider, I know I am, but it was so much more real that day, and something snapped in me." I shook my head and scowled, "I couldn't stand to be around anyone after that. It wasn't that you guys all looked happy, because you didn't. It was that you all belonged in some way, and I didn't." The words spilled out of me, and I couldn't bear to look at him, not when my face felt hot and my eyes threatened to expose me.

Sebastian remained quiet as he processed what I said, but then he spoke. "I remember seeing you leave during the dance."

"You saw that? Shit." A fresh wave of shame washed over me and I ran my fingers through my hair.

He nodded. "It's okay, I get it. And you didn't miss anything anyway. I don't think anyone else knows."

"I'm sorry," I said again, pressing my lips together.

Sebastian's gaze softened, but I sensed a hesitance that persisted. "It's fine. I know that feeling, of being an outsider. I never considered what it would be like for someone like you trying to be part of things here."

I offered a ghost of a smile, letting my gaze reconnect with his once more. "In so many other cases I think it'd be fine. I don't know, it was just a particularly weak moment for me. And I don't want you to feel bad for dancing with Abigail instead," I added.

He grimaced. "We'll see next year. I dance with her because we were paired up together when we were kids. Neither of us even likes the damn dance. I don't know why she still goes along with it."

"Why do you?"

He shrugged once more. "It's something to do. Everyone else in town goes, and the town's so small that it'd be pretty obvious if someone wasn't there. There'd probably be gossip afterwards."

"I'll play hooky next year if you do."

Finally, I elicited a smile from him. "That's the best thing I've heard all week."

"It's confirmed then," I nodded sternly. "Next year we shall bow to no Flower gods."

He snickered, and it was the most glorious sound.

I was feeling a lot more energized now. I was glad to have confided in him. Perhaps we could resume our almost-existent friendship.

"So," I ventured, "any plans for the rest of today, or this weekend?"

He sighed, though he had not completely lost the smile playing around his mouth. "If gas wasn't so expensive, I'd ride my motorcycle to the city today."

My consciousness lunged like a desperate, starveling thing, and I spoke without pondering my thoughts. "If I paid for gas, would you take me with you?"

He hesitated, at a loss for what to say. There was a weariness in him that I didn't notice until afterwards.

My mouth kept going, fuelled by the inkling of a chance to visit Zuzu City. I was desperate to go back, to experience the shitty people and the polluted air, all to know that it still was there and that my choice had not been wrong. The beast was in full predatory mode, unchained and feral.

"It'd still be cheaper than taking the bus, and two thousand times more badass. There are so many places I want to go back and visit. I can't believe I've been away from it for an entire season, I wonder how much has changed. I…" The words died on my lips. Oh Yoba, had I scared him? I wasn't even sure if we were friends, really, and here I was inviting myself on a motorcycle trip with him and babbling like a zealot.

No words came from his lips, but his face said enough on its own. His brow had furrowed above his narrowed eyes and he seemed to lean back, away from me.

"Shit, shit," I said angrily, bowing my head slightly. "I got so excited, too excited. I'm sorry." It was my turn to sigh, my self-frustration fizzling out. "It's just – you mentioned going to the city and a floodgate opened, all these feelings and thoughts, and unexpected things." It had been like hearing a voice for the first time after being deaf for years. My pulse throbbed with the intensity of a timpani, and that terrible beast reared its ugly head, frustrated with being teased like this. I bit my lower lip and looked away, willing myself to die of mortification already. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have invited myself. I put you in a difficult situation." Every instinct in me told me to flee, but I couldn't. Not this time, not after I'd hurt him by fleeing in the past.

My words were met with silence, and I wondered how badly I had damaged this relationship.

"You're homesick," he said gently, surprising me.

I looked up and met his gaze. His earlier apprehension had been replaced with a solemn understanding and sadness. I felt naked before him, and my heart went into a free fall, struggling to right itself and find stability. I was unsure if I relished or hated the feeling, the vulnerability and bareness of being known. I forced myself to nod slowly, a cover for the sudden bout of self-consciousness overtaking me. My cheeks blazed. "I should go." I could not handle this.

I turned and made it as far as his bedroom door before he said, "Wait."

I stopped and turned to face him, trying to keep my gaze focused on the floor.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should've figured that you had a good reason to get so excited and intense." He paused to think. "I think I know you better than that. I mean, we don't know each other that well yet, but you've shown a lot of yourself through your actions. You treat me, the monster, like I'm normal."

My heart pounded in my chest, hopeful and anxious. We were on the threshold of something, and it was on me now to cross it or step back and let the moment fade. My desire and fear grappled with one another.

"You are not a monster," I said quietly. "You are a kind creature with a good heart that you choose to hide. The monsters are those who try to break it." I bowed my head. "But thank you. I'll see you tomorrow." I turned and left, leaving him in silence.

In my head, I heard one word repeated over and over again in his voice: _Yet_.


	9. Chapter 9 - Melon Luau Soup for the Soul

The next few days felt like a return to normalcy, or at least some semblance of it. I had hired Robin to build me a coop, and with some of my leftover money, managed to buy myself a chicken. In true, unoriginal style, I named her Chicken. I was on a roll with bestowing names upon animals.

Summer was not so unlike spring in that I began my days tending to my crops and now my chicken, while the remainder of the day was spent doing a variety of things. Regardless of what I was doing that day, I made sure to work in a visit to Sebastian, and I couldn't ignore the excitement that each of these meetings brought me. It didn't matter that most of these visits were short, I was just glad to have someone to talk to who didn't just focus on my profession. Neither of us mentioned that conversation we'd had that first Friday of summer.

Part of me still marvelled over how the days blended together out here. There were discrete times of day, but overall, I had trouble remembering how Mondays were different from Wednesdays and Thursdays. Maybe that was the nature of summer – warm, sultry caresses that blurred nights into days into cloudless skies and endless tapestries of constellations.

It was the day before the Luau when I awoke from a vivid dream. In it I had been walking around downtown Zuzu City. The streets had been empty, without any signs of life, though I had known that Sebastian was here somewhere. Skyscrapers stood around me, their windows as dark as the shadows they cast. At once I knew he was just a block away, but as I turned, I sensed him to be gone, another street or two over. Throughout, I could hear Sam's laughter in all of its loud, pestiferous glory. I couldn't tell if he was with Sebastian or not, but he felt like a connecting piece of the puzzle. No matter what I did, I was always too many steps behind until I ran out of breath and the sidewalk swallowed me whole. It hadn't been a nightmare per se, but I was shaken regardless, and woke up covered in sweat.

I slipped out of bed and padded to the front door. I opened it with a creak and stepped out onto the front porch. Dog was already outside, sniffing at the melons I would be harvesting today. I wanted to celebrate the fact that my melons had actually turned out, but I couldn't muster enough cheer for that. My thoughts were still stuck in the Zuzu City of my dreams.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed that the flag was up on my mailbox. I stepped down and over to retrieve my mail.

The first was a reminder letter from Lewis about the Luau tomorrow. I chucked it into the shipping bin without reading it. A letter from my mother, and another from my father rounded out the rest of my mail.

The letter from my father brought a small smile to my face:

 _Hey kiddo,_

 _I read an article about you in the local paper! I'm so impressed with your progress on the farm! Keep this up and dear old Dad might be retiring in a Fern islands luxury bungalow after all ;)_

 _P.S. Your mother insisted on writing her own letter. She's quite upset that it's been more than a full season and you haven't come back to visit. Sorry._

 _Love,_

 _Dad_

Guilt wracked me. It hadn't occurred to me why there hadn't been any letters from my mom lately. Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned by her only child.

With trembling fingers, I opened my mother's letter:

 _Hey you bucko,_

 _Remember me? I'm the lady who gave birth to you. I just wanted to drop you a line to see how you are. Dad told me about the article in the paper about you; it sounds like you're doing just dandy without us out there in the valley. I'm at once proud and mournful. You're no longer a child, but an independent adult making a name for yourself. I'm also a little ticked off._

 _When are you coming by for a visit? Spring's over now and before you know it, summer's going to be gone, too! Are you eating enough? Have you been making friends? Have you seen any bats out there? There's just so much that can't be stuffed into a letter. I understand that you're busy, but would it kill you to come by for a day or (even better) a weekend? I guess I'm a little more than a little ticked off. It's not the same without you here._

 _I just don't want you to forget about us._

 _We love you so much,_

 _Mom_

My heart sank as I slid her letter back into its envelope. A dark mood took hold of me, and my blood boiled in a flash of anger before leaving me numb, empty. It was unfair. I was just starting to get back into the groove of things here, and then this letter brought the whirlwind of confusion back to the forefront of my mind.

What stopped me from going back at least for a visit? I knew the normal, standard answers: transportation, cost, and time. But those didn't take my heart or soul into account. Was I even ready to go back? I tried to think about my life just two seasons ago, but struggled to get past the longing I felt. I missed sitting in cafés during my lunch breaks, I missed people-watching at the park on weekends, and I missed my parents, who accepted and loved me unconditionally.

As much as the city had hurt me, I could not shake my loyalty to it. Ultimately, Zuzu City was my home still. Forever, it would be the place where I grew up, where I was born. Nothing could change that. That part of my history was set in stone, and I knew that there was some good in the city. Had my decision to give it all up been made too hastily?

Now that I was here, I was afraid that if I went back now, I'd never leave. Somehow that seemed worse than the idea of never going back, even to visit. To leave permanently would be failing my grandpa, and letting myself down. I had had so much to prove to myself coming out here, and I was somehow thriving. I enjoyed farming, now that I had developed a cadence and gotten past the trials and tribulations of experimentation.

I enjoyed my freedom – I never felt chained to any particular activity here. The valley lay before and around me, available in a way I had never expected it to. On top of that, there was a certain tranquility that I was able to achieve out here that had not existed in the frenetic city. And yet the city called to me, hoping to lure me back into its clutches with its siren song. If I moved back to the city, would the valley sing to me then, as well?

I could not stop the small voice within me that also noted that returning to the city meant leaving Sebastian out here. Not that he didn't have any other friends, but I knew now that I meant something to him. I refused to read into what that something might be, but it was there and it lay heavy on my heart.

For the rest of the day, my feet were like lead. My mother's letter had left me deflated, and the remaining hours of sunlight I spent hidden underground in the mine, away from prying eyes. By the time I stumbled out into the fresh air, the sun had just about set, and I forced myself to drop by and visit Sebastian for my daily, requisite visit.

"Hey, I'm sorry I'm coming by so late," I said as I stepped into his room. He was at his gaming computer, in the middle of a game it seemed, but he paused it as I came towards him.

He nodded, pulling off his headphones. "It's okay. I appreciate you coming over." He rubbed the back of his neck, "You know, if you're ever bored, you can hang out here in my room." He tried to sound nonchalant, but I detected some nervousness.

"Thanks," I gave him a lop-sided smile. "I wish I was bored more often."

He breathed a light sigh of relief and I tried to pretend that I hadn't heard it.

"Well, what did you do today that was so exciting?" he asked.

"Mining. Oh yeah, I have to show you this thing I found in the caves. Maybe you can tell me what it is." I groped around in my backpack until my fingers stumbled upon a smooth, glassy material. I held it out for him to take.

He was intrigued, and when he recognized what was now held in his hands, his face lit up. "This is a frozen tear."

I was skeptical. "What does that even mean?"

He rolled his eyes, but grinned. "It's a tear that's frozen."

I gave him my most unimpressed look.

"Okay, fine. It's supposedly the frozen tear of a yeti."

"Oh, neat," I said without enthusiasm. I chewed the inside of my lip and watched him turn the thing over in his hands. There was such wonderment in his face, so child-like and innocent. I knew that his mask was off, and this was the true Sebastian I was seeing now. Who else had seen this aspect of him? Despite my sad state, I warmed to him, unable to resist the light of his fascination. "You know what? You should have it."

"What?" he yelped and almost dropped the thing.

"You heard me, you should have it. I have no use for it." I shrugged.

"I can't possibly take it."

"Okay, well," I took it from him and then held it out away from my body. "I'm going to drop it and let it shatter on the floor."

He was stricken. "You wouldn't."

"Sure, I would. Now, if you would just take my damn gift, this frozen tear thingy doesn't have to experience shattering into a million itty bitty pieces."

He sighed and held out a hand to take it back.

"Good. I had a feeling you would come around."

He continued to marvel at the glassy droplet as I placed it in his palm. He looked up at me, his eyes wide. "I really love this, how did you know?"

"I had a feeling that my 'secretly an expert on rocks' friend would appreciate this. It was a gamble though, I must say."

He rolled his eyes once more, but the remnants of his smile would not leave his lips. "I'm not secretly an expert on rocks."

"Uh-huh," I narrowed my eyes, "sure, tell that to the sad yeti that cried this frozen yogurt blob I found."

"It's a frozen tear," he corrected me quietly, unable to stop himself.

"Sure," I yawned, "whatever you say."

"Are you tired?" He cradled the frozen tear in his hands, but a wave of concern furrowed his brow.

"Kind of," I admitted, and stifled another yawn.

"What time did you wake up this morning?"

"6am," I shrugged. "Same as always."

He stared at me, his eyes troubled. "But you're out late almost every day."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How do you know that?"

"When I'm out smoking by the lake, sometimes I see you just entering or leaving the caves." He looked a bit sheepish, and a ruddy tint coloured his cheeks. "No wonder you're exhausted. It seems like you're working all the time."

"That's not true." I didn't sound as confident as I wanted to and my poor spirits did little to bolster my words.

"So what do you do when you aren't working?" I knew he was trying to prove a point, but there was a genuine curiosity behind his query.

"Let's see," I thought for a moment, absently rubbing my arms with my hands. "I read."

"What do you read?" He pressed me further.

"Fantasy books, comic books."

"Oh yeah?" He sat up straighter. "Well, did you read the new 'Cave Saga X'? I won't spoil it for you, but oh man…" He trailed off into a grin, and his whole face lit up once more. I had never seen him so excited.

"Hey, man, no spoilers!" I glared at him. "I'll have to get my parents to send me a copy." The sharp reminder of my mother's letter made me wince.

"I didn't spoil anything," he protested.

"Sure, but you're so excited, I know something good happened."

"It depends on what your idea of good is," he smirked.

"You're killing me. Truly." I was unable to relay my enthusiasm, and my statement unintentionally dripped with false sarcasm. I shook my head with a frown. "I'm sorry, that sounded sarcastic when I didn't mean for it to. It's getting late, I should head home."

He nodded. "Thanks for coming by. And if your parents don't send the latest Cave Saga to you, you can borrow mine."

"That sounds good." As much as I had enjoyed my conversation with Sebastian, I was feeling the drag and pull of my earlier distress. Nothing had changed: my mother was still upset with me, and today had been another day not spent back in the city. My life here was very full, but my heart was empty.

"Are you okay?" His brow furrowed as he studied my face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, doing my best to give him a smile. I managed to bite my lip and bare some teeth.

He was amused, but concerned. I appreciated that. "If you need to talk, I can listen," he said softly.

I nodded. "Thanks." I pressed my lips together.

Warily accepting my refusal, he gave me an encouraging smile that was somehow able to jolt my heart into temporary palpitations. "I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow at the Luau."

I blushed and smiled in earnest. "Okay," I paused. "Me too. See you tomorrow."

As I exited the shop, I felt an imperceptible shift. The bad mood fell back into place and I sighed. I took my time walking home, letting the darkness swallow me. It reflected too many of my fears back at me such that I was unable to contain my tears. What was I doing with my life? Had my choices been worth it?

Not even the thump of Dog's tail when I entered my house consoled me. I could take him with me if I moved back to the city. My mom would just have to deal with her allergies.

Gosh, even in theoretical situations, I was a shitty, selfish brat.

I sat in front of the fireplace until sleep took me, and I slept dreamlessly.

The day of the Luau dawned, bright and obnoxious. I dawdled while I completed my morning chores. The Luau was another one of those events that I was going in blind for – no expectations meant no disappointment, or so I'd taught myself.

"See you later, Dog," I said and patted him on the head. He panted and stared up at me with such hope in his eyes that only made my leaving for the Luau even harder.

It was nearly 11am when I finally made my way onto the beach. Everyone else was already there, milling about, partaking in the festivities. I saw an area that was dedicated to dancing and made sure to stay away from there. Like the Flower Dance, a number of decorations had been put up. I looked closer at some of the tiki totems that had been placed around as area dividers. I was impressed. Four tables laden with food surrounded a large barrel tended by Marnie. The barrel contained some sort of brew that smelled delicious. In the southeast corner of the beach, Linus oversaw some meat on a spit. The townsfolk had captured the feel of a luau quite well.

"Farmer!" Someone called and I turned towards the voice.

It was the mayor. He gestured over for me to join him. Beside Lewis stood a portly gentleman, likely in his sixties. He wore a purple cloak and bowler hat. I thought I recognized him from news segments on the TV back when I lived with my parents, but could not quite recall his name.

"Mayor Lewis," I nodded at the mayor.

"I wanted you to meet the governor," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. The governor extended a pudgy hand and I shook it.

"A pleasure! It's always such a treat coming out to the valley to enjoy the spoils of your bountiful harvests. The air is so fresh in the valley," the governor inhaled deeply. "Perhaps the missus and I should purchase a summer home here."

I bowed my head slightly. "I'm from the city myself. It's lovely here in the valley, that is undeniable."

"Have you brought something for the soup?" Mayor Lewis asked, and he tugged at his shirt collar. "You would be the best person to showcase the great quality produce we have out here."

I tried not to glare at him. I still had one of the melons I had harvested yesterday in my backpack. This would be my contribution, I decided. I didn't care how awful the concoction would taste. "I've got a little something-something."

Lewis wiped at his brow in relief. "Well, I think we're all looking forward to tasting it. Please let me know when you've added it and we can get to feasting."

I shrugged. "Sure." Taking this as an indication of dismissal, I bowed to the governor. "It's a pleasure meeting you, sir."

He was tickled by my gesture, but I didn't stick around to hear what sorts of sweet nothings he'd throw my way.

I exchanged greetings with a few of the people I passed as I made my way up to the soup barrel. The sand here was covered by a mat of palm leaves. Another nice touch. There were a few steps that led up to the pot, and I gingerly took them. They were narrow and somewhat rickety, as though they had been used many, many times in the past.

"Aloha, farmer," Marnie said, grinning broadly.

"Hello, Marnie," I said and peered into the depths of the soup.

"What have you got to throw in?"

I reached into my backpack and produced the melon.

Marnie tried not to stare. Her smile dimmed some.

"What do you think?" I asked her, studying her expression.

She continued to smile. "If that's what you've got, we should toss it in." I liked her spirit – laissez-faire!

I held the melon in my hands over the soup. _Here goes nothing_ , I thought, and dropped the melon into the broth with a splash. Stepping back down onto the blanket of leaves, I signalled to Lewis.

"Alright, everyone," he called and gestured for everyone to gather closer. "It's time for the governor's tasting." He rubbed his hands together and I saw beads of sweat slide down his face.

The governor stepped forward and Marnie filled her ladle with soup. She brought it down for him to have a taste. The town collectively held their breaths awaiting the governor's remarks.

He swallowed noisily and contemplated the taste before letting a slow smile spread across his face. "Ahh," he began, "that's a very pleasant soup. The produce from this valley never disappoints!"

A chorus of cheers burst forth and the governor filled his bowl. As most of the townsfolk stepped forward, I espied Sebastian hanging back. I made my way over to him.

"Don't you want some of this fabulous soup I helped create?"

He smiled as he turned to face me. He had been looking out toward the water. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Abigail stood on the docks, vaguely in that direction. I hadn't predicted the surge of jealousy that struck me.

"Oh, I do. I'll just wait until everyone else is done." He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at me. "What about you?"

I shrugged. "I'll wait with you. I don't feel like joining the feeding frenzy quite yet."

The folks who had tried the soup first murmured amongst themselves, but we could catch threads of it. An unexpected bubble of pride erupted within me.

"Who added the melon?" Pam hollered, a dribble of soup sliding down her chin. She looked angry, but then again, that was her usual expression.

Sebastian gave me a significant look. So he had seen me add it.

"I did," I said, stepping forward cautiously. I offered myself on a platter to these hungry wolves. Perhaps the governor had had a taste without any melon in it. It had never occurred to me to eat any of the melons I had grown, they had always gone straight into the shipping container. Was I about to get cussed out by Pam for tossing in the massive fruit?

Her first response was an unwavering stare, then she nodded approvingly, her brow smoothing. "It's delicious. Did you grow it yourself?" From the crowd came a murmur of agreement and a wave of nods.

"Yes." I felt myself blush.

"You're doing good things out there on your grandpappy's farm," Pam said, and returned to downing her soup.

As the crowd around the soup barrel dispersed, Sebastian gestured for me to follow him and we stepped up to the pot. The liquid gurgled merrily as Marnie handed me a bowl and ladled a heaping spoonful of soup into it. I waited for Sebastian's bowl to be filled and for Marnie to hand us our spoons.

Sebastian and I looked at each other and a strange, unspoken communication occurred. My heart leapt to my throat, and it was a struggle to swallow and force it back down. Together, we filled our spoons and had our first mouthfuls of soup.

The taste was mildly spicy with the heartiness of homemade broth. Somehow the melon had broken down and a chunk of it had made it into my mouth. It added a nice crispy texture without affecting the overall flavour. Suddenly, I was glad to have come here without expectations.

"This is good," Sebastian said finally. He had finished half his bowl of soup.

I nodded in agreement. "Surprisingly so."

"This is loads better than it's been at a lot of past luaus. One year, Sam put a pound of anchovies into the soup," Sebastian grinned in remembrance.

I gaped at him in horror. "No way. That must've been awful-tasting!"

Sebastian smirked. "Ever wonder why Sam leads the town in community service hours?"

Unable to control myself, I let out a snort of laughter.

"Hey," Sam's voice cut in from the other side of the beach. I watched him trot over to us, eyes bright. "Did I just hear you guys talking about me?"

Sebastian and I exchanged a glance before we both burst out laughing. A trickle of warmth seeped into my heart, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like I belonged.


	10. Chapter 10 - Four Hearts, Dreaming

Summer had swallowed the valley like a titanic, lumbering god. I had forgotten what it felt like not to be covered in that sticky layer of sweat. Being by the ocean, humidity seeped into everything, and the air felt heavy, like a thick cloak on my shoulders. The mosquitos by the lake thrived in it. There were few places to find relief, the main one being the cool, dark caves of the mountain. This suited me just fine; it was just another excuse to go by and visit Sebastian as his house was on my way to cool, sweet sanctuary.

Today, as I approached Sebastian's house, it struck me that something immediately looked different. The summer haze clouded my thoughts, and it took a moment for me to pinpoint the change to the now open garage door, and another few seconds for me to fully grasp that I was gawking at a motorcycle and the legs of Sebastian sticking out from under it. I had stopped in my tracks to take it all in, but now that I understood, I stepped forward tentatively. Suddenly, I was less intent on rushing into the mines to escape the heat.

"Oh, hello," came Sebastian's voice, and he rolled out from under the motorcycle. A cigarette was tucked behind his left ear, and small patches of dirt stained his cheeks and clothing. Of course, even though we were in the depths of summer, he wore all black. At least he had opted to wear a t-shirt instead of his hoodie. I looked down at myself. I had not done much better, I realized, with my dark t-shirt and jeans.

He lay on a creeper, that wooden board on wheels mechanics used to get at the underbellies of things, and alongside him were a few tools – wrenches and screwdrivers of varying sizes, a funnel, a set of Allen keys, and a whole slew of things I could not name. This image of him contrasted greatly with the Sebastian I was used to seeing, but I had to admit that this was a good look on him. The dark prince was down to get dirty sometimes, and I liked it.

I walked up to him, being careful not to kick any dirt or dust into his face. "Is this bike yours?" I had expected a completely black motorcycle, but the front fender and fuel tank were a vibrant azure and I could see a lot of the original chrome remained unpainted. Perhaps Sebastian hadn't always been so enamoured with the colour black. It was a strange thought, but entirely plausible. I didn't know much about his history, I realized.

It was impossible for me to tell how old the vehicle might be – its condition looked like new. Granted, I was no expert on motorcycles, but even I could appreciate the shine and cleanliness of the vehicle before me. It positively sparkled in the afternoon sun, and I resisted the urge to run my fingers along it. He had mentioned his bike to me a number of times, but I hadn't imagined it being so pristine and well-cared for.

"What, you haven't seen my motorcycle before?" He chewed his bottom lip, puzzled. "I guess I haven't shown it to you." He frowned to himself, but gave an awkward shrug and rolled back into place. "Tell me about your day," came his voice from below.

He was quiet as I described what I'd done so far – mostly farming, fishing, and foraging. It had been a relatively quiet day as I had spent the morning watering my crops and harvesting some hops. I wanted to look into getting some sprinklers to save myself some time, but on the other hand, I enjoyed the relaxed nature of the watering process. Since the Luau, I had bought another chicken – lovingly named Chicken 2 – and had started to make mayonnaise with the eggs from Chicken, who was all grown now. I remarked on how I probably should've named my first chicken 'Chicken 0' or 'Chicken 1' as there was now an awkward numbering convention in place.

"It's okay," Sebastian said, "just don't try to count your chickens or you may end up with an off-by-one error."

"Did you actually just make a programming joke?" I crossed my arms and leaned against the side of the building.

He rolled back out into view briefly to cast a mischievous smile up at me. In response, I rolled my eyes, but grinned.

I continued my account of the day: I had hit the beach, combed it for pearlescent shells, and cast my fishing line a few times. I hadn't caught anything noteworthy, so I dropped the few fish off in the shipping bin back home before coming up to the mountain. I told Sebastian that Sam had been at the beach with his little brother, and that he had shot a rubber band at me that was supposed to be for reminding himself that there was band practice this Saturday. Now Sam was likely going to forget since that rubber band was gone. Sebastian snickered at my general indignation of being shot at with a rubber band, and then sighed at the reminder of band practice. My presence had been requested at band practice as well, so, as I told Sebastian, we were in the same boat. He delighted in our shared misery.

As I dithered on, I watched him work. There was a carefulness to his actions, and though I had no understanding of what he was doing, I took pleasure in watching him. I hadn't realized how long his fingers were, how deftly they moved. I was certain that there was an art to repairing motorcycles, of which he was an master and this his masterpiece.

"Sounds like a full day." His voice was muffled by the clangs and pings of his tinkering.

"Yeah," I tapped out a pattern on my thigh with the palm of my hand. "So how long have you had this bike for?"

"Years and years. I got it when I was 16 I think?" The tinkering stopped as he contemplated this. "Yeah, that seems about right. It gives me an escape, an outlet. Oh, and Demetrius hates it." I could practically hear the grin that pulled his lips.

I was quiet, unsure of what to say. I didn't like Demetrius all that much myself, but I still didn't know the full story of why Sebastian seemed to have such a deep-seated hatred for the man. I scratched a mosquito bite on my arm. Sebastian's tinkering hadn't resumed.

He spoke, his voice wistful and husky. "Sometimes, after sundown, I make the long ride out of Stardew Valley." He paused, and my mind's eye began to picture what he described: the green hills of the valley, loathed to let you venture past their curves; the grandeur of the mountains, ever watchful, ever proper, ever wild; the laughter of the river just out of sight. "There's nothing else like it, blazing along the empty stretch of road toward the faint city glow." A sigh slipped out of him, like a whisper from parched lips.

"Once I've saved up enough money," he continued, his words limned with determination, "I'm going to head out on my own to the city and beyond. Just me and my bike." I could not deny the tragic beauty of a dreamer, that cling to hope and promises of something better beyond reality. Although I could not see his face, I was sure that there were stars in his eyes dark as midnight – stars, those tiny beacons of light that fed and guided dreamers, all at once infinitely far and intimately close.

The sound of liquid dripping, hitting the inside of a metal vessel, punctuated the silence. "There we go, oil's changed." There was a heaviness to his words that signaled the end of our quiet journey into the land of dreams, and I exhaled a breath I hadn't remembered holding.

"Your motorcycle is in really good condition," I said, trying to contribute something to our discourse. At the same time, my mind was still wrapped in the words he'd said. There was a blindness in his belief that disturbed me. I saw his vision of the city, but at the same time, the hard truth of concrete, steel, and glass sliced through it. Once upon a time, he had accused me of idealizing country life. It was clear now that conversely, he idealized city life.

He rolled back into view. "Thanks," he said, grimacing. "I love this thing more than I should, probably."

I shook my head. "With upkeep, you're maintaining the value. It's actually kind of cute that you're so dedicated to it." My face burned as I realized how much of my inner machinations had spilled out with that statement.

Sebastian raised his eyebrows, a glint of interest in his eyes. "Cute?" I caught him struggling to contain a smile as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"Yeah," I said quietly, shifting my gaze away. I felt my jaw seizing up, my body entering crisis mode. "I don't know," I shrugged, unable to look at him, "it's just kind of endearing seeing you – or anybody, really – so into something." My shoulders relaxed, the crisis averted. I glanced up at him.

He nodded stiffly, and I wanted to drown in the movement, for its simplicity and the sensibilities he kept behind it. I knew that I wanted to know them, and yet at the same time, I was scared. My pulse throbbed with frustration. I flushed even darker. I hadn't meant to hurt him by generalizing, I had only done it to protect myself. Did he like that I'd used 'cute' to describe his rapture of passion?

I cleared my throat. "It's been a long time since I've experienced that with anyone. I really appreciate you letting me into your world, and for putting up with all my weirdness."

"We're friends," he stated simply, and I felt my stomach drop. There was a bitterness in the smile he flashed me.

"I'm glad," I managed to say. "I think you might be my only friend out here."

"There's Sam."

I gave him an incredulous look, and there was a real warmth in his smile this time.

"Hey," he paused, composing his thoughts. "Maybe I'll take you for a ride some day."

My heart skipped a beat, and I had to remind myself to shut my gaping mouth and reply. "That sounds fun." I felt my chest flood with a rich, torrent of hope.

"Great." He gave me a crooked smile.

That night, I dreamt of the city. And this time, it wasn't a nightmare.


	11. Chapter 11 - Dark Practices & Bad Places

"Here's your stupid green algae," I said, thrusting the slick green mass at him. I was soaked and sour, and there were three more globs of algae in my backpack.

The wizard merely took the algae and dropped it into his cauldron. I heard it hit the bottom of the empty pot with a thick, wet squelch. "Thank you."

I stared at him. This was maybe the fifth time I had come by to help Rasmodius with an errand. Each time, he dumped whatever I had brought into that cauldron. It was always empty before my offering was dropped inside it.

He reached into his robes and held out his hand. "Here's your payment."

I stretched out my own hand beneath his and felt him drop some coins. I pulled back and counted my change. "45g? That's it? This is even less than last time," I frowned. "Do you know how much rain is coming down right now? I nearly drowned trying to get that algae."

He leered at me. "I'm well aware. Not only am I giving you 45g, but I am also letting you into my inner circle."

"It isn't really a circle if there's only one person," I huffed.

He snorted. "You dare to be cheeky with me? You have no idea what a friendship with me would bring you."

I crossed my arms. "No, I don't. And frankly, I'm not sure if I care."

The room was swallowed by darkness and my breath caught in my throat. A burst of light appeared and flew around the room. In the blink of an eye, it had tripled, and all three balls of light circled me. All of a sudden, they flew off and exploded with a loud pop. I heard a low, guttural growl and the lights came back on, but a large monstrous shadow remained. I watched in horror as it crept towards the wizard, who stood with his eyes focused on me, his lips pulled back in a sneer. The shadow beast approached the wizard's shadow and melted into it.

I took a shuddering breath. "What was that?" I squeaked. My pulse was racing and a chill slithered down my spine.

The wizard smiled wolfishly. "Just a taste of what my friendship could offer you."

"Hmm," I thought, scratching my chin. My gut cautioned me to tread carefully, but I really did not have time for him or for being careful. I was trying to earn more money so I could upgrade my house, and he was keeping me away from my precious time spent fishing. "That hardly is useful to me."

"Useful, eh?" Rasmodius grinned. "Come," he said and spun on his heel, his purple robes flapping around him.

Without another word, I followed him to the back of the room, down a set of stairs.

We were in a cellar of some sort, the focal point of which was a mirror.

He noticed where my gaze lay. "This is not just any mirror," he said smoothly. "It allows you to become whatever type of person you'd like."

I approached it, taking in the intricacies of its frame fashioned into swirls and whorls. On its surface, I saw only my own reflection warily staring back at me. "What if I wanted to become a shadow person?"

Rasmodius tugged at the collar of his robe, frowning. "Well, it's not quite like that." He exhaled loudly. "This mirror allows you to change your appearance – skin, hair, eyes, those are all changeable."

I continued to stare at myself, aware now of the interface that seemed to materialize in my mind. I contemplated switching up my looks just for fun, but decided against it. There was a weird, dark charge that this mirror gave me. It didn't sit well with me. I pulled away from the mirror and moved towards the stairs from which we came.

"That's some fucked up shit," I declared.

The wizard shrugged and it felt like a spell had been broken. "Well, it's only 500g if you ever wish to try it out."

I gaped at him. "You'd charge me? I thought you said that I was part of your inner circle."

"I don't allow those outside of my inner circle to even venture down here. Consider yourself lucky that this opportunity is available to you, even after your insolence." He sniffed as though he was hurt by what I'd said. What a load of crock. "Just consider the possibilities that access to a mirror like this present to you."

I could not help but think about Abigail and her vivid, purple hair, her pale flawless skin. For 500g I could look like her, at least to a certain extent. I wondered if Sebastian would like me more, or at least find me attractive. It was unclear to me still what their relationship really entailed. The two of them, along with Sam, seemed to form a sort of trio. Sam had recently recruited her to play drums for their band, but the friendship involving the three of them went beyond that, I knew. There was history between Sebastian and Abigail, and though the two of them didn't appear to spend time together outside of their trio, the unrelinquished past stood firmly in my thoughts.

I shook my head. What was I even thinking? We were friends. That's all I had wanted, to make friends with someone out here. That was what we had, and I should be more than satisfied with how things were. But the thoughts came unbidden — the image of him in his kitchen under the cloudy, filtered sunlight; the look he had given me as he had called himself a monster; the blush that tinged his cheeks when he stumbled over kind words of gratitude. But the tease of romance was futile; I was a maelstrom of uncertainty and doubt. I could not drag someone else into my mess. It would be unfair to unload even a fraction of that onus onto someone other than myself.

"We'll see." I started to head up the stairs. "If it's all the same to you, I think I'm going to head out."

"I shall see you again," the wizard said cryptically and followed me up.

"Don't give me that voodoo, clairvoyance shit. And if you make another request for algae, I'm going to ignore it. It's not worth my time."

Rasmodius waved me out with a smile. "You're saving up to upgrade your house."

I stopped mid-step, one foot already on the stoop outside. "How do you figure that?"

"Tell me, are you wanting to upgrade your house so you can start a family?" There was a strange light in his eyes. He grinned, but it looked more like he was baring his teeth at me.

It was then that I laughed in his face. "Me? Start a family? Are you insane? That's the most ludicrous thing I've heard in a long while." It was a thrilling feeling, this reckless laughter. "Thanks for the chuckle, Ras."

"Consider my question whence the upgrade is complete. I sense that you are not being truthful to yourself."

I decided not to dignify that with a response. I waved as I bounded down the steps and Rasmodius shut the door behind me without lifting a hand.

Lightning ripped through the sky as thunder boomed throughout the valley. Thunderstorms like this didn't exist in the city. It was awe-inspiring feeling the electricity in the air, like the earth was holding its breath, waiting for that echoing clap before it could respire.

The rain-soaked valley had lost some of its novelty now that I had seen it drenched in rain a number of times, but I still enjoyed the emptiness. I pressed quickly through Cindersap Forest and hurtled into town, en route to the beach. The lights were on at Sam's house and I wondered briefly if Sam would want my extra algae. I checked the time. I had already wasted too many minutes at the wizard's tower, it wouldn't hurt to pop in just to say hi. It also wouldn't hurt to try and make friends beyond Sebastian, as well, I conceded.

"Hello?" I said as I pushed the front door open.

"Oh, hi," Sam called from the kitchen. "I'm in here."

I carefully wiped my boots on the mat before walking into the kitchen. Sam was rummaging in the fridge and didn't see me as I came in.

"Are you looking for something to eat?"

In his surprise at my proximity, he smacked his head on the inside of the fridge. "Ow, oh," he breathed and pulled himself out. "Yeah, I was just about to have a snack."

"I have some green algae." Without waiting for him to reply, I shoved the algae into his hands.

His expression clouded over. "You don't really get it, huh?" He threw the algae into the kitchen sink. "I want real food."

I shrugged. "Well, I've got nothing."

He returned to perusing the fridge. "Here, let me get something for you."

"Sure." I hadn't had real, home-cooked food in a while, I realized.

"Cool." Sam retrieved the ingredients needed for a sandwich from the fridge, and as he was about to slam the door close, an egg rolled off a shelf. The crack as it hit the floor was sickly. "Oh no, what a mess," Sam exclaimed.

Sam's expression was a mix of panic and irritation as we heard footsteps approach.

"What was that sound?" Jodi entered the room and gasped. As her eyes took in the mess on the floor, her face contorted with pure, unadulterated rage. "This is absolutely terrible! What happened?"

Sam shuffled forward, his gaze focused on me, pleading. He jerked a thumb towards his mom. "Tell her."

I tried not to glare at Sam for putting me on the spot. What an asshole. And he wanted me to cover for him – I could tell from the wheedling look in his eye to the slouch of his shoulders. I debated for all of 10 seconds before deciding on what to say.

"Sam handed me the snack and then I dropped it." I gestured at the egg. "I was holding it. We were going to hard-boil it and put it in our sandwiches, but I lost my grip and dropped it."

Sam looked relieved, as though he had been spared death. Ass.

"Yeah, that's what happened," he said, his voice resuming its usual peppiness. Little did he know, but he was going to owe me big time. Sure, I wasn't the most coordinated of human beings, but I was not such a butterfingers that I couldn't hold a goddamn egg.

"Thanks for telling me the truth," Jodi said to me. "It's not such a big deal."

"I'm sorry about this, mom. I'll clean it up," Sam said.

"Thanks, honey," his mom nodded and pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her smile. She was charmed by her own asshole son. Sam was an absolute cad.

I shot another glance of vitriol at Sam as his mom left the room. He had busied himself with cleaning up the egg. Cowardly ass.

The sandwiches that Sam made were surprisingly good, but once I finished mine, I did not linger. There was a strange sadness that blanketed this house. It was there in the strained dialogue between Sam and his mother, and it was there in the array of toys strewn across the floor of Vincent's room. There were whispers throughout the house of Kent – the father, the husband, the soldier.

"You owe me," I said to Sam, by way of farewell.

He gulped, but waved and shut the door behind me. I could never stay here long, unless stuck in band practice. And now, I had some fishing to do.

The beach was a bleak place in the rain, but the sight of Sebastian on the pier sent a warmth through me. I went to say hi.

"You don't mind the rain, huh?" he asked. He himself was soaked, his clothes clinging to him, the contours following the lines of his body. I looked away.

"No, I don't. it's rather cleansing actually."

He noticed the fishing pole I clutched in my hands. "Doing some fishing?"

"Yeah, some different ones come out in weather like this."

"I'll leave you to it, then." I sensed that as much as I wanted to get to fishing, he wanted his solitude.

I nodded and moved to my usual fishing spot. I was hyper-aware of Sebastian watching me until I fell into the rhythm of it: baiting the hook, casting the line, reeling it in, unhooking my catch. I caught his eye once after a catch, and he seemed to want to say something, but stopped himself. The next time I looked over, he was gone.

A silent disappointment constricted my chest. It was probably nearing dinner time and he had to be home, I told myself. I had to face reality; Sebastian was not interested in me beyond being friends. Rasmodius's words came back to me and I bit my lip in anger. My own thoughts worked against me and I blinked away a tear.

I had to stop. I had to focus on myself, on my own life. I cared for him, but ultimately he was second to the issues I had to work through for myself. Shaking my head, I got back to work and let myself become one with the crash of the waves.


	12. Chapter 12 - A Modest Proposal

Summer was slipping away, but I had upgraded my house and most of my tools multiple times. This had been a productive season. It boggled my mind how big my house was now. I felt like I didn't know what to do with it all – a remnant of my city slicker past. My house rivalled my parents' in size, and something about that fact made me uncomfortable.

It filled me with pride to think it, but I had to say that the farm was thriving. I was not even halfway through my first year and I had learned so much, enough to have a working sprinkler configuration, enough to have crop yields valued at tens of thousands of gold.

My successes proved to be a good distraction from my thoughts of Zuzu City, but the glow was fading; I was slowly accepting my good fortunes, and the novelty of erratic shopping was wearing off. There was only so much unnecessary furniture one could buy. I wanted to lie in bed all day, but it was too hot and I had too many obligations. Memories of the city seared my mind.

At this time of year the streets would be crawling with tourists. It was funny how much disdain I had held for the passels of people, wandering with their eyes skyward, clogging up intersections when they missed something. If I were to go back now, I would be the tourist craning my neck to take in the skyscrapers, feeling the flutter of insignificance in my heart. There was some poetic justice in there somewhere, I reckoned.

Summertime in the city was a paradox of sorts; it was simultaneously the best time and the worst time. I recalled going to the beach, and catching fireworks shows at night. I thought of the night markets that ran deep into the evening, bursting with food and entertainment. But I also remembered the hot pavement that sizzled in the sun, and the oppressive reek of garbage as it baked in dumpsters and alleys. The hot smell of garbage was always accompanied by the pungent odour of urine and unwashed vagrants that lined the streets of more impoverished neighbourhoods. It didn't matter how hard you tried to avoid it, it was always there.

Sometimes I disgusted myself with the strange reverence I infused into my thoughts of Zuzu City.

I dragged my feet through my daily chores before retiring to my house, content to enjoy the lingering coolness of last night that just barely remained in the nooks and crannies.

Even into the evening, the heat remained, stifling my zest for life, my joie de vivre. Languorous summer had grabbed me by the throat and was choking the sanity out of me. After sunset, it was nicer being outside, out of the oven that my house invariably became.

These were the best times to visit Sebastian, who also became a cranky monster in the heat. For a brief instant, I imagined us together in a stuffy, hot room, our bodies draped over various pieces of furniture, lamenting the heat, enjoying our shared distaste for the season. There was something all too thrilling about the thought.

This evening, like most evenings, I found Sebastian standing by the lake, smoking.

"Hi," I said cautiously. His gaze was focused out at the water, and I didn't want to disrupt his reveries.

He turned towards me and gave me a smile, just a small one. "Hey, how's it going?"

My heart, traitorous thing, beat almost painfully.

"Pretty good." My gaze fell on the cigarette held between his fingers.

Sebastian noticed my gaze and let out a small, resigned sigh. He made like he was going to put out his cigarette.

Giving him a questioning look, I gestured for him to stop and continue smoking.

"You don't mind me smoking?"

I shrugged. "I'm used to seeing smokers in the city. I'd rather you not for health reasons, but if I'm being honest, I like the smell of tobacco and it seemed like you weren't done yet."

We lapsed into silence, both of us staring out at the lake.

"I wish I could quit cold turkey," Sebastian said, his voice wistful. "But sometimes it feels like the only thing keeping me sane."

"Why's that?"

He seemed disturbed that I had asked a follow-up question, like he hadn't been expecting it, but he answered it anyway. "Demetrius and I don't really get along. And when it comes down to me versus Demetrius, my mom will side with him." He exhaled a puff of smoke. "I mean, I can't say I'm surprised, and she's probably right in doing so a lot of the time, but Demetrius and I really don't see eye to eye on a lot of things."

"So smoking calms your nerves."

"Essentially." He took another puff. "I really want to quit, though. Beyond heath reasons, I feel like there's a symbolism to it. Like a sign that things are finally looking up, so I won't need them as my crutch any more." He exhaled deeply. "I'm not quite there yet, though." Sebastian's mouth twisted with glumness.

My fingers twitched. I wanted to reach for his hand, but my consciousness tugged away that instinct just in time. "I have complete faith in you," I murmured. "When you're in that right place in your life, you'll have the strength and be able to do it. I know you will."

A sardonic smile dripped from his lips. "I hope so. Thanks."

"Plus," I began, remembering a particular scene I had stumbled into. "Demetrius is an asshole."

His look was querulous.

"I walked in on him and your mom arguing once," I continued. "They were arguing about—here it comes—tomatoes. Are they a fruit? Are they a vegetable? Who even knows?"

"Let me guess, my mom said they were vegetables." A hard, faint smile played around his lips.

"Yup. And of course, Demetrius goes full-asshole and says that she's completely wrong for saying so because they're fruit through and through." I rolled my eyes. "I mean, honestly, no one treats tomatoes as they would most other fruit."

"Agreed."

"I was so close to just clobbering him over the head with my watering can. And he was all shades of disrespect when talking to your mom." I shook my head fervently.

"I can't say I'm surprised," he said dully. "But I think you caught them at a particularly bad time. He can be pretty awful sometimes, but I have seen moments where he is completely dedicated to my mom. Plus," he sighed, exhaling another cloud of smoke, "he's actually stuck around for all these years. That's more than I can say about my dad."

"Hey," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. It took a second for me to realize what I'd done, but he didn't flinch away. He merely maintained his gaze out at the lake. "Families are all pretty dysfunctional." I tried not to picture my own mother swelling with indignation at that statement. "We aren't defined by our parents or our families. I'm my own person, and you're your own person. Really, we're this way in _spite_ of our families." I withdrew my hand, hoping he hadn't felt the sweatiness of it.

He was silent for a time, taking a drag from his cigarette every now and then. Somehow the regularity and movement reminded me of an asthmatic relying on their inhaler, or of someone treading water, desperate not to drown.

"You're right," he murmured, and he turned, his gaze sliding to me.

I wondered what I looked like to him in that moment. My cheeks were probably red, flushed from the heat of the evening and my surfacing feelings. A breeze had kicked up moments ago, so my hair, originally clumped with sweat, now flapped around me. My last haircut had been in the city, just a week before I had moved out here. I probably needed another one badly. I hadn't changed my clothes after working on the farm this morning, so I was grubby – a stark contrast to his spotless black clothes. In short, I probably looked like a filthy, unsophisticated farmer, an image so far from the urbanity he wished to be a part of.

I looked away. "Cool," I said in response to nothing in particular. I longed to steer his gaze away from me, but couldn't think of how. His face was too close to mine, and my insides felt like they were on fire. The only thoughts crowding my head were of his mouth and how badly I wanted to taste it.

"I've been thinking," Sebastian began. The words trickled out of him, slow and heavy with intention, and my thoughts crawled sheepishly out of the cesspool of longing they had gone and thrown themselves into. "I know you still miss the city. I hear it in every word you speak, and I can see it in all of your movements."

I wanted to protest and assure him that I had embraced life in the valley, but at the same time, I knew he was right. The ugly truth of it was that it was embarrassing for it to have been obvious enough for him to see. I waited for him to continue.

"And I know we had that weird misunderstanding in the past about going to the city together," he said. I could still feel his gaze on me. "But I wanted to thank you for coming around to see me every day. I really appreciate it. I know that I'm a loner, but sometimes it sucks to be lonely, you know?" He didn't wait for me to answer, and I saw him blush a delicious shade of pink. "So I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come with me on a ride to the city."

That beastly, empty part of me had seen this coming, at least that's what it told me, triumphant and boisterous. That part celebrated and pleaded with me to say yes, to accept – no questions asked. But another part of me was petrified. Suddenly this was all too real, the possibility and now probability of going back to Zuzu City – with Sebastian, no less. And that was another whole part of the equation that I hadn't thought of last time. Sebastian would be with me. Did that make this a date? Was this his way of saying he thought of me as something more than a friend? And as the person who knew the city better, was I obligated to be his tour guide? Maybe that was what he wanted out of this. Maybe he wanted me to show him around and help him find a neighbourhood of the city he could eventually call his home. Maybe this wasn't a date, after all, but a step towards him leaving me and the valley forever.

That first part of me deflated just a little bit.

I couldn't do this. I couldn't go on a motorcycle trip to the city – just me and him. I wasn't ready yet, and maybe wouldn't be for a long time still. It was obvious to me now how badly the city had hurt me for this proposal to instill such mixed feelings in me.

In my mind, I composed my rejection. I would be polite and I would hint at accompanying him to the city at a later date. I appreciated that he thought of me, but no, sorry, not this time.

My lips parted, the words ready to go, waiting on my tongue. I turned my head and made careful eye contact with him. I saw that he was scared, but hopeful. His dark eyes reflected the moonlight with a sparkle that pierced my soul.

"I'd love to," I said, shocked and horrified at my undoing. I had betrayed myself once again.

A slow, rich smile spread across his face and I knew with a sinking heart that I would surrender over and over again if it meant glimpsing that smile once more. "Great," he said, slightly breathless. "I was thinking of riding out to the city early in the fall. There should be fewer tourists then, right?"

I swallowed noisily and uncomfortably. "Yeah, there should be fewer people then."

"Cool," he nodded, and dropped his cigarette into the dirt by his sneaker. He ground it out with his shoe, and reached down to pick up its remains. "I'm sure you'll want to be here for the fair, so we'll go sometime before that. Are there any other days that won't work for you?"

"Preferably not the first day of fall. It's best for me to sow seeds as early in the season as possible so I can get as many harvests in as I can," I explained. I wasn't sure how I was able to say this all so calmly to him. My palms were clammy and I felt dizzy.

He nodded. "That makes sense."

"I'm glad," I said weakly.

Sebastian stared at me for a moment, and reached out a hand to grasp my arm and steady me. I hadn't realized how noticeably wobbly I had become. "Are you alright? We don't have to go if you don't want to." His eyes were full of concern and I wanted to weep. "I'm sure you have your own demons back home, and you don't have to tell me about them, so I want you to know that if you don't think you feel ready to face them, we don't have to do this."

He was giving me an out. My pulse raced and I pulled myself up into a more stable state. This was my chance to be a coward and break his heart.

"No," I said firmly. "I'm fine." I paused, exhaling a breath I'd forgotten I'd been holding. "You're right, though. I do have demons back home." I looked away and his grasp relaxed. "But there's still a lot of loose ends that I should come to terms with, a lot of things I left behind and didn't properly say good-bye to."

He nodded once more. "I understand. We can take it slow, we can drag it out into multiple visits if that helps."

"Thanks," I said, truly grateful. The burden on my back was shifting, though the void in my heart still rang empty and voracious. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too." He grinned.


	13. Chapter 13 - Six Hearts, Meeting

"Hey Sebastian," I said, barging into his room. Today was an unseasonably cool day, and I was in high spirits. I stopped dead in my tracks, my smile faltering.

"Hey," Sebastian nodded in reply.

"Hello," Sam called cheerfully.

I waved at Sam. The two of them were seated around the board game in the corner of the room. I hadn't noticed any sort of movement or change in the pieces left in mid-play since I had first been granted entrance to this space, but now it looked like the board had been cleared off.

Sebastian noticed my staring. "Sam and I were about to play 'Solarion Chronicles: the Game'," he explained. "Why don't you join us? It's better with three players anyway."

"Sure," I said slowly, and made my way over to them. I slid into the remaining seat. The board on the table between us contained intricate designs and images of formidable dragons, ancient castles, foggy woods, and warriors in all sorts of complicated armour sets. Over it all was a trail painted to look like dirt that curved across the board in great swooping esses. A few decks of cards sat in dedicated spots on the board.

"Have you played this before?" Sam asked me.

"No," I shook my head. "I've played RPGs in the past, but they've all been on the computer or as video games."

Sebastian gave me a look of intrigue. "You'll pick this up in no time."

"I'm touched that you have such faith in me." I bowed my head.

Sebastian released a small smile. "Okay, here we go. Let me draw the scenario card." He reached forward and placed his hand on a small stack of facedown cards. He pulled off the top card and flipped it over. "Hmm, it looks like today's quest will take us into the Necromancer's Tower to try and reclaim the Solarion Staff from the clutches of Dreadlord Xarth."

"Cool," Sam enthused. "Yo, farmer, are you ready to choose your character? There's no farmer class so you'll have to try being something else."

I rolled my eyes. "Even if there was a farmer class, I wouldn't pick it." I chewed my bottom lip. "What are my options?"

"Healer, wizard, warrior," Sebastian recited.

Part of me itched to pick the wizard class, but I was wary. Playing the wizard would probably come with a lot of responsibility, and I wasn't familiar enough with the skills or rules of this world to feel comfortable in that role. Warriors always seemed like such clunky, meatheaded characters – perfect for Sam, I thought. That left me with one option. "Healer. I prefer to help others."

"Healer, huh?" Sebastian gave me a sly grin. "That's a very important role. I guess I'll pick the wizard then."

"Cool. Warrior's my favourite anyway," Sam said, beaming. Meathead confirmed.

"Let's begin," Sebastian said, clasping his hands together and cracking his knuckles. His hand automatically went to the next pile of cards, drew one, and brought it close to his face. He took a deep breath, signalling the start of our plunge into the world of Solarion Chronicles. "The King has entrusted you and your companions with recovering the Solarion Staff – a task which, if completed successfully, will ensure your place in the hall of legends as well as a sizable fortune of gold and silver."

As he set the scene, I felt a tingle of excitement work its way through me. There was a rich confidence in his voice, and I enjoyed how his tongue slid around the words. It all felt so natural – the three of us here, Sebastian narrating our crusade while Sam and I sat in blissful reverence. The crackle of magic defined this moment and I shivered with anticipation.

He moved on to the next card.

"After a long month journeying across unforgiving lands, you step out onto a precipice to see your destination looming in the distance. There, beyond a moonlit plain, lies the Necromancer's Tower, where Dreadlord Xarth usurps the power of the stolen Solarion Staff for his vile purposes."

Sebastian looked up, away from the card, and we locked eyes. The intensity of his gaze ignited a small flame inside me. A slow burn crept up my insides. "The tower lies beyond you," he said. "How shall we enter it, healer?"

I thought for a moment. There were so many options. "Go in the front. Fortune favours the bold."

Sebastian drew another card from another deck, and cleared his throat. "A skeleton guards the hallway before you. It looks dangerous. What do we do?"

"Fight the skeleton," I stated matter-of-factly.

"The skeleton lunges forward," Sebastian said, adrenaline coating his words. He looked at me to prompt a reaction.

I looked to Sam who merely shrugged. "I'm not the brains of this operation," he said. Meathead doubly confirmed.

I tapped my chin absently. "Raise your shields, crew," I said, after thinking for a second.

As though he had a shield strapped to his arm, Sam held his arm out to try and protect us from the skeleton.

"You successfully block the attack. The skeleton stumbles backward, giving you enough time to strike out and slay the foul creature."

Sam made a slashing motion in the air.

"You continue down the hallway, taking care not to step on the skeleton's remains." Sebastian picked up the next card. "You find yourself in a sewer-like corridor. To your left, a hallway glows with a peculiar green light. To your right, a staircase leads up into the dark. What do you do?" His gaze fell to me once more.

Right or left, right or left. I closed my eyes and imagined myself into the situation. There was more unknown if we were to go right, but on the lefthand route, there was a glow to investigate. I spoke my choice firmly as I opened my eyes, "Enter the hallway to our left."

"You are in a room. On your left is a ladder. On your right, three prisoners are floating in strange, glowing capsules. They appear to be in the process of some kind of transformation." Sebastian watched me carefully. "Could this be some sick experiment of the Dreadlord's? What do we do?"

I didn't even need to pause to think. "Destroy the capsules."

Sebastian gave me an approving nod. "After putting these poor souls to rest, you and your companions climb the ladder."

Sam and I mimed climbing a ladder.

"You've come to a door at the end of a hallway," Sebastian continued. "The time has come to face Dreadlord Xarth."

"Oh shit," I declared. "I'm not ready."

Sam snorted. "Good thing I'm the warrior, then."

Sebastian grinned and took on a dignified yet mischievous expression. "Intruders? How dare you trespass in my private chambers!" he said in an altered voice, and I realized that he was playing Xarth's part. "Ah, so you've come for the Solarion Staff…" Sebastian waved grandly. "Hehehe… fools. You'll make a nice addition to my skeleton army!"

"No," I squeaked.

"Dreadlord Xarth casts shadow beam," Sebastian said, returning to his narrative role. "You were able to dodge the spell, but your companions are gravely injured! What do you do?"

I looked from Sam to Sebastian and back again. My heart had unexpectedly jumpstarted itself and I felt a burdensome weightiness to my next words. Had Sebastian purposely framed this situation so that I would have to pick between him and Sam? That in itself was an easy decision, but I feared how much of my heart I would be revealing. I gulped. "Heal the Wizard."

"Cool thanks," Sebastian said with marked apathy, and I caught his face flush.

Sam raised a suspicious eyebrow as he studied me, but said nothing.

"Sebastian casts 'Pure Bolt'… a beam of white light hits Xarth square in the face. The Dreadlord shrieks and crumbles into dust. You pick up the Solarion Staff and hold it high. Order has been restored to the world."

"It's over already?" I gaped at Sebastian and he nodded.

Sebastian pulled out a small guidebook and flipped to a scoring page. He quickly scanned the page before saying, "You finished the scenario with an A rating."

Sam clapped and I whooped.

Sebastian looked pleased. "Hey, not bad! It took me like, three or four tries to beat my first scenario."

I bowed my head. "It was only possible because of your great narration. The whole experience was very immersive. I didn't want it to end." I could not keep my cheeks from burning as Sebastian and I looked at each other.

"Thanks," he said, blushing a darker shade of red.

Sam's suspicious expression returned as he eyed me and then Sebastian.

I stood up abruptly, wanting to draw attention away from the flickering flame in my chest that threatened to consume me. I didn't want to think about how good Sebastian's hair looked today, or how his voice made my stomach clench unexpectedly. "Well, I should go," I sputtered. "Got lots to do today. This was really fun, though. This might have been the most fun I've had in a long while, actually."

Sebastian stood as well, pushing back his seat. He nodded, but our gazes remained connected. "I'm glad you had fun. Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you later."

There was a breathiness to his words that complemented the look in his eyes and I knew I had to leave now before I destroyed the moment.

"Yes, I'll see you later."

Sam waved as I left, but he remained pensive. I couldn't meet his eyes as I scurried out.


	14. Chapter 14 - Shores of a Moonlit Sea

As the start of fall approached, I found myself increasingly frantic. By day, my thoughts vacillated between the minor focus my daily chores required and my anxiety about the impending motorcycle ride to the city. By night, I mined constantly. It didn't matter that I had hit the bottom of the mine, the regularity of it gave me a stability that I clung to. On my way to the mines every night, I kept up appearances with Sebastian.

He seemed more talkative now, but that was maybe because of my relative silence. I didn't say much these days; it was apparent to me now that my mouth was a traitor.

He told me about the comics he was reading, how his mother almost threw some away. He ranted about Demetrius, and I soothed and consoled him with small reassurances. He lamented how his room was windowless and gloomy, he confided in me about his lack of cooking skills. He seemed amused that my own cooking skills were about as good as his; I had a collection of recipes, but never had tried my hand at making any of them. A part of me wondered if there was any point in me even trying to learn how to cook. Raw veggies still sated my hunger, even if they didn't taste the best.

We were just filling the space, keeping a buzz in the air. It was obvious what weighed heavily on both of our minds as we hurtled through the days and nights.

And just like that, summer ended. Tonight was the dance of the Moonlight Jellies.

I had to admit that a modicum of excitement came to me. This was a festival after all that Sebastian didn't hate. Just the thought of that brought a smile to my lips, and I rushed through my morning, not even bothering to read the letter from Demetrius in my mailbox. Into the shipping container it went.

Evening came quickly, swathing the valley in a blanket of wispy grey. As I exited my house, I felt the nip of autumn just around the corner. It was a minor adventure in itself, walking through the Cindersap Woods and town to the beach. Everything looked different, more menacing in the gloom.

As I stepped onto the beach, I was struck by how quiet it was. Carried by the wind, I could hear the murmurings of the townsfolk gathered here, but there was nothing of the usual festiveness and light. The shore and dock were lined with people, all of them staring out into the blue.

I was not in a particularly sociable mood, but as I hadn't visited Sebastian earlier today, I was obligated to say hi now. I could barely make out his dark form on the pier against the rapidly falling night. He stood at the end, gaze trained out to the west. Unfortunately that meant walking by Sam, who stood with his back to Sebastian and his eyes looking east, and now north to where I was.

Steeling myself, I approached the dock. Of course, Sam had detected my presence, and of course, he sauntered into my path, stopping me from walking by.

"Hello, Sam," I said politely.

"Hi, farmer," Sam said with a grin. He leaned closer, conspiratorially. "I've been thinking about these moon jellies and how I can use them to play a prank on Sebastian."

"Is that safe?" I asked, furrowing my brow.

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"So maybe you shouldn't do it."

He was pensive. "You may have a point. I wonder if they're poisonous. Maybe I shouldn't push Sebastian in after all."

I frowned. "You would _not_ do such a thing."

He shrugged again. "I could and I would. What's it to you?" I saw his gaze flick to somewhere over my shoulder and a knowing smirk crept across his face.

Before I could respond, a voice just to the right of us cut in.

"Is Sam bothering you?"

I was relieved to see that Sebastian had joined us. His eyes danced in the dying light and a tight smile held his lips. A breeze blew by, rustling his hair, catching in my throat.

"I can handle him," I said plaintively.

"If you say so." He quirked an eyebrow. "Anyway, the view's better on my side." He turned and gestured for me to come with him.

I made a face at Sam before following Sebastian to the western end of the pier. I neglected to look back purposefully. Let Sam think what he wanted.

We stopped and I sucked in a breath rich with the salt of the sea.

"You're right," I breathed, looking out past the Lonely Stone into the endlessness before me. "This is the nicer view."

I sensed him shift closer to me, and I was painfully aware of the heat of his body. "I thought I saw something moving in there." I followed his gaze. "Something big, something dark." I could feel his breath on my neck, in the fluttering of my hair. My pulse raced with dread and something more.

I inched back and bumped into him, his hands briefly wrapping around my arms to steady me. I hoped he hadn't felt me lean into his touch.

"Just trying to scare you," he smiled.

I narrowed my eyes at him, glad that it was too dark for him to see my burning cheeks. "Haha, very funny." I shivered against an icy breeze and I saw his hands twitch.

Although I knew that I should be enjoying the view of the sea, I stole a glance at Sebastian and suppressed a sigh. He did not look back at me for his gaze was focused elsewhere, vaguely, I realized, in the direction where Abigail stood. As though he had felt my stare, he turned back around to face me, and I could've sworn that we leaned into each other despite my misgivings, as though we were about to share a secret. I wanted to blurt out a question, to ask him about her, but I was afraid. There were too many possible answers that would pain me, and I wasn't a masochist.

The air between us was like electricity, but neither of us moved, and my heart ached from the tension.

We simply stared out at the moonlit sea.

I knew he felt it too, the strange and simple pull of the tide towards the shore then back out into the abyssal azure. There was something lovely about the unknown depths below and all the mysteries it held – an unattainable wisdom for the living and breathing.

"Farmer," Mayor Lewis called over to me, shattering the calm. He stood on the dock where the fishing shop was. "Is it time?" He gestured with a hand at the small wooden boat in the water by his feet.

"Yes," I called back. "Release the candle-boat."

There were murmurings of anticipation all around me, and I saw Sebastian crouch down for a better look as suddenly, a series of faint glowing creatures materialized in the surrounding waters.

I could barely make out their round, spindly forms in the gloaming, but that was part of their appeal. Their existence was not defined by their corporeal bodies, but by the sweet beauty that they rendered with them.

It was a pulsing glow, rich with the breath of life, but also hollow, void of its own set of emotions. As I watched the throbbing of light dance towards and away from us, I felt tears prick my eyes. My thoughts toyed with me, and as I gasped for breath, a heaviness stormed into my chest. I understood the uncomplicated beauty of these creatures before me, but just for that fleeting moment as they spun and drifted into patterns and mandalas in the midnight blue. Then suddenly, a hollowness filled me and I could see it with absolute clarity, the smudge on the universe that was my life. All that I was and could be were laid out in front of me, and at the centre of it all was my grandpa's farm—my farm. My decision, my indecision, all of it was the backdrop to the story of my life. And there, I could see a question in that void that surrounded and encompassed me, a question that struck fear and longing into my heart. I could not contain the tears which had overflowed, tracing rivulets of liquid realization down my cheeks, off my chin.

"Hey," Sebastian said quietly, and I felt his hand on my back. "Are you alright?" I hadn't noticed him get back up on his feet.

I nodded, but kept my eyes cast downward. "I'm fine."

I heard him rustling in one of his pockets, and after a moment, a tissue was held out just in front of my nose. I could not have missed seeing it even if I'd tried. "Here," he said gently, and I took it from him.

"Why do you have tissues on you?" I asked, my tears still cascading. I took a shuddering breath.

He looked away. "I brought them just in case. This is kind of a weirdly emotional event. I thought I might have to use them – secretly – but I feel okay this time. I'm strangely at peace."

I let out a loud sniffle that I hoped Abigail didn't hear. Sebastian said nothing as I dabbed at my eyes. "I don't know what came over me," I warbled, my voice thick from crying.

"It's okay," he said, "it doesn't matter."

"It's just, it's just that I saw it and felt it – how insignificant I am in this world." My hands balled into fists, the tissue tucked into the curl of my fingers.

"You're not insignificant to me," he said softly. I almost could have imagined it, but his hand pressed reassuringly into my back as he said it, forcing a fresh blossom of hope to erupt in my chest. "I know how you feel. The moonlight jellies fuck with my head, too," he said and I had to laugh, a haunted, shuddering sound.

"I doubt you reacted as badly as me when you first saw them."

He shrugged. "I was a toddler when I first saw the jellies, so you're right, my first time didn't elicit that kind of reaction from me." He let out a short, ragged laugh. "It was bad when my dad left, though." There was a note of strain in his voice.

I turned my tear-streaked face to look at him. "Oh, Sebastian, I'm sorry."

"No, don't be, there's no need." His expression was set, his eyes glittering and hard. "It is what it is."

The silence pressed in on us, cradling and swaddling us. Watching the jellies propel themselves out and away from the docks brought me an acute sense of relief, and I felt a shift in the air and mood. The glow of summer had officially faded into the crisp and crunch of fall.

When the last flickers of luminescence melted away, we let out a collective sigh, sober and suddenly aware of ourselves. As the moon peeked out from a gash in a cloud, the shuffle back to town began. Murmured good-byes rang out across the beach, grubbying the night air. Sebastian didn't move, and I stayed with him, knowing I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Soon we were the only two left on the beach.

"You didn't want to leave with the rest of them?" I tilted my head towards the beach entrance.

"I wanted a moment out here alone."

I flushed in the darkness, thankful that the moon had hidden its face once more. "Oh, okay. I'm sorry, I should head back anyway."

"Oh, no, I mean, I don't mind if you're here." He paused, and I wondered if he too was grateful for the darkness.

I shook my head. "No, it's fine. I should get some sleep anyway. Lots to do tomorrow." I took a step towards the sandy beach shores, my boots giving away my movement.

He nodded woodenly, a sudden tightness came into his jaw. "Alright. I'll see you soon. Don't feel pressured to come by tomorrow since I'm sure you'll have your hands full farming," he said softly.

I nodded. "I'll see how it goes, though Linus sent me this recipe for sashimi and I've been needing someone to be my guinea pig."

A full-on grin broke out on his face and he let out a pure, unrestrained chuckle. "How did you even know that I like sashimi?"

"Lucky guess. I actually had no idea, I was just going to force you to eat it regardless of whether or not you like it or not."

"I might have to argue in defense of guinea pigs."

"Don't bother, it's a losing battle." I bit my lip and smiled in spite of myself. "Goodnight, Sebastian."

"Goodnight," he said as an errant moonbeam caught in his hair.

I swallowed down my thoughts and turned away.


	15. Chapter 15 - Hot Child in the City

"Hold on tight," he said, his mouth set at a jaunty angle, teeth slightly bared. His shiny, black helmet framed his face on three sides, though somehow it only served to make him look more badass than usual. A tinted visor blocked his eyes from view. It was wearing on me a bit how many times my stomach lurched when I looked at him. Every glance was a feast of my favourite things, and I was bloating from it. I also happened to be a glutton, so there was that problem.

I nodded, my chin pressed against his back. I didn't want to open my mouth for fear of telling him how much I enjoyed the sensation of clinging to him. My arms linked snugly around his waist, the seat of his motorcycle was just long enough to fit me behind him – all of the little things we hadn't accounted for had fallen into place.

The engine had already begun to purr, but as my grip on him tightened, I felt the purr build into a growl, then a snarl, and suddenly, we were off in a roar of sound.

It was something of a winding path coming down the mountain, but we made good time, and were on the highway in a matter of minutes. Part of me was tempted to turn around, to blow the valley a kiss, but I didn't want to let go of Sebastian. There would be other instances when I could do it, I reasoned with myself.

As much as I had wanted to enjoy the sights around us, I felt an anticipatory dread pressing on my brain like an oncoming headache. I caught glimpses of small towns, dairy farms, and a desert. It struck me then how long ago it'd been when I had last come this way; I had been with my mother, dropping off the last of my belongings at the farm, before my permanent move.

Permanent – the word sounded funny in my head, but not unpleasant.

The air was cool and I silently thanked Yoba that I had thought to wear a jacket. I also thanked Yoba for the warmth of Sebastian's body. Every time I adjusted my hands, I thought I would have to pinch myself. I held the dark prince in my arms, and he was taking me home to the city.

We had set out at 6am, but the hours ticked by faster than I liked. Forests melted into factories, which in turn were devoured by hulking houses at the edges of fields. Soon, the fields filled up with more houses, smaller houses, until the houses became narrow, tall, and tiled with glass and steel and concrete.

We had missed the morning rush of commuters, but as we stopped at a red light, I felt it – the thrum of life coursing through me, littering the roads, tucked into the alleys and side streets. Billboards encouraging me to drink Joja Cola and catch a Tunnelers game assaulted my senses. The shrieks of cars charging through red lights, the loud oaths of pedestrians too close to curbs – all of it formed a dome, an atmosphere of its own that pressed down on me. Now that I'd had a taste of small-town life, the city felt enormous and unwieldy. There were so many streets, so many intersections, so many people clogging them all.

 _This is my home_ , I reminded myself. _This is where I belong_.

We slipped down a less busy street and he signalled that he was going to pull into the last available spot nestled between a mud-caked mini van and a pristine, luxury sports car. The engine was cut, the growl subsided, and he slid off the bike. I followed suit, slightly bow-legged.

As he put coins into the parking meter, I pulled my helmet off, letting my hungry eyes devour the sights around me. Brick, steel, and glass lined this block in the form of low-rise apartments and small retail storefronts. People milled about, though none of them gave us anything more than a passing glance. Anonymity, the fiend I used to cavort with, sidled back to my side. The beast in my chest roared – Home, Home, Home! The word was bursting out of my chest, trilling up and down me through my veins, my arteries. And as it freed itself from me, it hollowed out my insides and I shuddered as the dread shattered within me. I was finally here, and it was glorious.

So early in the season, the trees had not quite started to lose their leaves, and so the sky – that familiar grey-blue autumnal sky – was sliced by a layer of red, gold, orange, and brown, rustling in the gusts of traffic as cars raced by. The air was full, infused with the comforting aroma of baked goods wafting out of a nearby café, punctuated by the whine of construction machinery a block over. As I stood there taking it in, I realized with a blush that Sebastian was watching me, hands in his pockets, lips slightly parted.

"Where to?" I asked, the question sounding unnaturally bold and challenging.

He slipped his gaze off me and ran his fingers through his hair, making my stomach clench. "I wanted to get some new computer parts."

"Cool," I said, wracking my brain for a good suggestion, still recovering from his glance. "Abe's is not too far from here. They would probably have what you're looking for."

He nodded. "That's where I was thinking, too. Do I get cred for thinking like a local?"

I laughed, though I could not deny the edge to his question. "Definitely, though I'm sure there are pockets of the city that you know better than I do. I didn't go out a lot when I lived here, mostly just went from my parents' house to work and back. Sometimes I'd buy groceries if my parents were out of town, but that's about it."

Sebastian nodded and we started walking towards Abe's. "I understand."

"It might be a programmer-centric affliction."

"Probably," he said before a truck lumbered by, blaring its horn. I watched as he cringed.

As we fought to turn the corner against the flow of the crowd, I watched a man in loafers and a well-cut slate suit kick over a vagrant's styrofoam cup just some paces ahead of us. Coins spilled across the pavement, and the sea of people walking by paid no heed. Some even kicked away and snatched up a few coins. I winced, thinking about Linus.

Just barely holding my own in the stream of people, I crouched down and scooped up some of the loose coins. I sensed Sebastian do the same just behind me.

We placed them back in the cup.

"Thank you, thank you," the homeless man said, his patchy whiskers twitching into a grateful smile.

Nodding, I pulled myself back up and waved as we rejoined the crowd once more before breaking off to enter Abe's.

As Sebastian pushed open the door, the labyrinthine shelves of Abe's revealed themselves to us, lined with cardboard boxes split open, striped with packing tape, and split open again, their contents spilling onto the metal shelves. Wires, cables, hard drives, strips of LEDs – all of them reached out, pleading to be picked up and examined. I itched to linger and admire the dusty newness of them, but Sebastian loped ahead, intent on completing his quest.

My hands trailed by my side, my fingers dangling, the tips just grazing cardboard and metal and plastic. I had built a gaming PC years and years ago for myself, but I hadn't had time to play on it during my time at Joja. The nervous warmth of homecoming slithered up my arms with every tactile connection.

Sebastian stood just ahead of me holding two video cards, one in each hand. He looked appraisingly at them, his brow furrowed, chin slightly jutting forward. I knew that despite his expression, he was struggling not to show his excitement – his lips fought against a smile, his eyes tried to dull their lively glistening.

"Which one are you leaning towards?" I asked, sidling up to him.

He turned and I took care not to swoon.

"Probably this one," he said, holding out the box clutched in his left hand. "It's more expensive, but the quality is worth the difference."

"That's fair. Plus I owe you money for gas so I can cover the difference."

He shook his head. "No, this trip is my treat. Plus you're making up for it by being good company. I like making these trips by myself, but it can be lonely." His gaze dropped to the floor and I detected a blush creep up his neck as a similar heat slid under my collar.

"Well, thank you."

After replacing the box in his right hand back on the shelf, we dodged teetering towers of cardboard overflowing with parts and a smattering of fellow shoppers blocking narrow aisles as we made our way to the cashier.

"Hello," the bespectacled man behind the counter said, weariness bleeding into his smile. A grey fuzz covered his chin, accenting his dry, gnarled mouth. "Did you find everything you were looking for today?"

Sebastian nodded and pushed the video card forward. The man paused, his hand hovering over it.

"Oh, heh," he said, looking sheepish. "Are you sure you need this now? We're going to be marking this down tomorrow."

"Wait, why?" I asked sharply before Sebastian could say anything.

"Well," the man looked around cautiously. "I'm keeping this on the down low, but we're closing up shop at the end of the year. We'll be having sales from tomorrow until then as we clear out stock."

"That's a shame," I said, as I tried to process what he'd said. An abrupt sadness settled in me as I exchanged glances with Sebastian, who looked equally distressed. "I'm sorry to hear that. May I ask why?"

"It's not sustainable," he said, a bitter smile limning his words. "Small businesses like us can't survive in this city. Rent is so high and competition is too stiff."

I couldn't argue with him there. That issue had made headlines time and time again as more businesses felt the crunch of higher rents. The revelation still felt like a punch to the gut regardless, the raw ugliness of it forcing me to face it.

"So," I managed, frowning, "what are you going to do after that?"

He shrugged and then sighed. "Might have to try a different city, or try in a smaller town, somewhere the big guys haven't infiltrated yet."

I nodded.

Sebastian cleared his throat. "I don't know if this is possible for you, but you can charge me the current price as it is. If you can attribute the sale to tomorrow, I'd like if you kept the difference for yourself, as a thank you." He flushed, but his voice remained even. "It's not much, but it's something."

The man's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Sebastian nodded.

"I greatly appreciate it." The man keyed in something and Sebastian handed him his money. The video card was slipped into a small plastic bag and Sebastian tucked it inside his jacket.

"Thanks again," the man said, and relief peppered the smile he gave us.

With a final wave, we re-entered the labyrinth and left the store.

"I don't get people in this city sometimes," I said over my shoulder to a stony-faced Sebastian. "They'll pay over 500g for shitty coffee and shitty service while businesses like Abe's flounder and die." I shook my head and stumbled back as someone slammed into me.

A sinking feeling pulled what remained of my minor elation down – there were so many people out and about. We must have stumbled into the lunch hour rush. I glanced back to see how Sebastian was faring and felt the drop in my mood complete.

I had never seen him so uncomfortable. Streams of people trotted by, each piece of the whole engaged in being its own self-sufficient whole. I wondered what they looked like to him. He pressed himself against the building, as far from the people as possible. I saw his chest rise and fall, and I could almost hear his heartbeat resounding in my head.

An idea struck me. "Come," I said, and dragged him down, onto a less busy street framed by telephone poles papered in posters begging us all to enlist in the armed forces.

As he realized how much more of the sidewalk he could see between the people, his shoulders lowered, and his body let out a sigh.

"Thanks," he managed, and I tried to ignore the light gasp that accompanied the word.

"I'm not done yet," I said, tugging on his arm.

We continued down the block of sleepy low-rise offices until we reached about halfway. Here, I turned onto a narrow stone path that squeezed between two buildings. I didn't have to look at him to know that he was bewildered.

He said nothing as we inched farther down the path, our shoulders brushing the dirty brick and stucco. As we slipped through to the other side, I felt the tension in him ripple away.

Before us was a small courtyard laden with stone bricks and concrete. Around the edges, vines and trellises snaked up along the building exteriors, painting intricate patterns across their dull façades. A circle of wooden benches fanned out across the space and trees alternated with them, creating a symmetry of wood, alive and dead. Just above, in the gaps between the surrounding buildings, the skyscrapers of the financial district glinted. Although the bustle of the city streets could still be heard, it dropped to a murmuring buzz, stifled somewhat by the buildings and greenery.

"I used to come here during my lunch breaks, before deadlines got crazy. The people working in these offices never seemed to use it."

He tilted his head, taking it all in, and I heard him loose a sigh. "This is great, like an oasis of fresh air." He took a few steps, testing out the tranquillity, before facing me. "It means a lot that you shared this with me."

Part of me wanted to shrug, afraid of what the tenderness in his voice meant, desperate to shy away from the potential heartache my mind kept wandering to. But I had hurt him in the past with my fear, my forced dismissiveness. I settled for a simple nod. "I thought you might appreciate the sanity."

His breathing was easy now; the sanctuary had worked its magic. "I'm done with my tasks for the day. If there's anywhere you want to go, we can do that next."

I knew my answer before I said it, and I reckoned he had an inkling of it as well. The inside of my mouth went dry and I ran my tongue across the backs of my teeth, hoping to find a better suggestion for where to go, but the words keep repeating in my head.

"First thing's first," I said, my jaw set in a grim line. "I need to go see my parents."


	16. Chapter 16 - Meet the Parents

I wasn't sure what I was going to tell them. I knew that they would both be home today as they had Mondays off, and in a way that was perfect. The stars had aligned, virgins had been sacrificed under the light of the moon; this was the perfect opportunity to visit them both without worrying about visiting them at work or monopolizing their lunch breaks.

But as I walked up to my parents' townhouse, I felt that dread come back in full force. I paused at the gate, so familiar and now full of premonition and hidden meaning. What on earth was I going to tell them?

I looked back at Sebastian. Unswervingly, he returned my stare, though the edges of his eyes softened with some unnamed force. He had offered to wait outside for me, and while I hated the idea of leaving him alone, I also knew that he had no chance at being alone for more than five minutes out here. I played out the scene in my head a dozen times in a dozen different ways, but unerringly, I knew my parents would meet him.

It would be unfair of me now to make him define what our relationship was, I would have to go with what I knew – appearances and subtext be damned. Besides, if I brought it up now, my mother would probably hear us discussing the matter through these paper-thin walls. Mothers had a penchant for embarrassing their children.

Twisting the handle on the gate, I swung it open slowly, easing past the squeaky part, until it was open just wide enough. I mounted the few steps up to the front door and fished around in my pants pocket, finding my key far too soon.

Sliding the key into the lock, I held my breath and turned it. The lock clicked, the mechanism loosened, and I removed my key. My actions felt agonizingly slow as I placed my hand on the door knob and turned it. I sensed her then.

The door flew open as I removed my hand just in time. I still managed to stumble as I crossed the threshold into my mother's arms.

"You're here!" she cried, and engulfed me in a warm hug. "Mother's intuition," she called back over her shoulder, likely for my father's benefit.

"Hey, sport," my father said, shuffling forward from the gloom of the hallway. "How's it going?"

"Good," I managed, the word strained by my mother's vice-like grip.

"Are you here to have lunch with us?" my mother's voice trilled in my ear. Finally she eased her grip, putting me at arm's length. "And how did you get here?"

"I got a ride from a friend."

"A friend?" My father leaned forward to peer past me though the still-open front door. "Ah," he said simply.

"What? A friend?" My mother let go of me and leaned against the door, looking out at the street. "Oh goodness," she said loudly, and I knew she was trying to make herself loud enough for Sebastian's benefit. "Why didn't you say so earlier? He must come in."

My father pushed past me, strangely eager, and rushed over to greet Sebastian. My mother followed shortly after, her cardigan flapping around her. I couldn't look, embarrassment washing over me like a tidal wave.

It didn't take long before Sebastian's footsteps came down the path behind me and he joined me in the foyer of my parents' house. I was half-convinced that my life was over, but he didn't look as nervous as I thought he would.

"You should have told us," my mother said, stepping inside, "that you were coming, and that you were going to bring a friend." She glanced furtively at Sebastian and then to me. "Just friends?"

My face went up in flames. "Yes, mother, just friends," I said fiercely, injecting as much ire into my voice as possible. I refused to look at Sebastian, though my heart raced and I felt my stomach drop.

"Oh, well," my mother said, bustling by me into the hallway, "any friends of my baby's are welcome here. Now how about some lunch?"

"Sure," I said quietly, following her down the hallway into the kitchen, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

It was all much as I remembered it – floral wallpaper, lacquered oak, stuffy, outdated, good ol' house. The kitchen had been this way since my parents had bought it before I was born. I slid into a chair at the table, finding the familiarity jarring. Somehow this didn't quite feel as much like home as I had anticipated it would.

"So, Sebastian," my father began, as he shuffled into the kitchen behind us, "that's a nice bike you've got there."

"Thank you," Sebastian said shyly from his seat beside me.

"You know, I used to ride a motorcycle," my father said, winking.

I gaped at him. "You did not."

"Indeed I did. I'm not just blowing smoke trying to be nice here. I really did. You should ask your mother."

She chimed in on cue, looking away from the stove top briefly. "I made him get rid of that thing."

Sebastian excused himself to go to the washroom – "Second door on your left down the hall." – and suddenly the weight of attention shifted to me.

"Are you in love with that boy?" my mother hissed, shooting a knowing glance at me.

"N-no," I stammered. "Are you seriously asking me this?"

"It's a valid question," she said, shrugging and returned to cooking. "Because I reckon he's sweet on you."

"Mom, no one even says that anymore." I knew that my face was burning.

My father chuckled as he started to get out the dishware. "You do seem like similar types of people."

I stared at him.

"You know, brooding and introspective." My father smiled at me. "For what it's worth, I like him. He's polite and he rides a motorcycle. Vroom!" He mimed revving a motor.

Thankfully Sebastian returned at that moment and I was spared having to make my opinions on what my dad had said known.

"So Sebastian," my mother began, as she turned off the stove element, "what do you do? Are you a student? Do you work?"

"I'm a freelance programmer," he said, and his face flushed though his body language belied some perking up.

"That's excellent," my father said, grinning encouragingly. "You know—"

"He knows," I cut in, unable to control my grumpiness.

"Well, no wonder you're friends, then," my mother said, and pushed a cheese-smothered piece of cauliflower onto the plate my father had slid in front of Sebastian. "I still think you should've tried the freelancing thing before you gave it all up to become a farmer," she said, gesturing with her spatula at me.

I shifted in my seat. "I couldn't, mom. I was done." I hoped the hint of finality in my statement would end that discussion point. "And besides, I like being my own boss now. I have so much control, so much freedom."

She grimaced as she gave me my lunch. "Which means _you're_ to blame for why you haven't come back to visit before today."

"Okay, no more fighting," my dad said, waving a dismissive hand and casting Sebastian an apologetic look. "These two always go at it. You're a good chap for coming out here."

"Yes," my mother added, "thank you for bringing this one" – she pointed at me and pursed her lips – "back home for a visit."

"You're welcome," Sebastian said as he picked up his fork, though he avoided looking at me.

I hoped that he could sense the gratitude I sent his way, but there was no change in his posture or expression.

"Wait, is this pumpkin soup?" he asked as my mother plunked a bowl of orange in front of him.

I wrinkled my nose. "I think so." I made a face.

"Yup," my mother confirmed as she took her seat. "Are you allergic to pumpkin? Or do you not like the taste? Pumpkin's a rather polarizing flavour, I find."

"Oh, no," Sebastian breathed, a hint of a smile pulling his lips. "I really love this dish."

"Wonderful!" my mother said, clapping her hands together, pleased as punch. "You hear that?" She nudged me. "Some people other than your stuffy, old parents actually like this dish."

I rolled my eyes.

The rest of lunch passed by quickly, the sounds of us eating sprinkled with small talk and quiet conversations between my parents. It struck me now that they had achieved a new normal without me, which I was thankful for, though at the same time, I felt a certain sadness. My relationship with my parents would never quite be the same as when I had been living with them, and I mourned silently for it.

 _You could move back in with them_ , a voice in my head reminded me, a slice of triumph affecting its tone.

 _Could I really?_ I wondered silently as I looked around at the dated, stuffy things all around me. Although this place had served as home for most of my life, it didn't have any marks of me except for in my room.

We exchanged good-byes once our meals were done, and my parents smiled brightly at Sebastian.

"Hope to see you again, Sebastian," my mother said, leaning against the front door's frame. And then, in a stage whisper to me, "He's a nice boy, I think you should keep him."

I glared at her. "I don't own him."

She waggled her eyebrows at me and I sighed, closing the gate behind us.

"So," I began as I took the helmet from Sebastian, "how was lunch?" Weariness warped my tone and the words sounded strangely false.  
"Lunch was good," Sebastian said hesitantly. His gaze flicked away.

"It's okay if it wasn't," I rushed to say, waving a hand. "There's no pressure for you to say it was good. My parents are a little eccentric, and they can be a lot to deal with." I paused. "For what it's worth, I think you did really really well."

He shrugged as he pulled on his helmet. "I'm being honest. It was good. They're nice people. I like them more than my own parents."

That twinge of jealousy bit me and I pulled on my helmet quickly. I didn't say anything as I hopped on behind him, my mind drawing a blank as it tried to carve out a response. The rush of the city in my veins faded, and I was left feeling hollow.

Our ride back was uneventful, and I thought I detected a fresh and lengthening distance between us somewhere beneath the thrum of the engine. Nevertheless I maintained my grip on him, wondering when and if I would touch him again. My chances were diminishing with the passing seconds, I figured.

We slowed as we entered the valley, and a part of me couldn't help but be excited to be so close to the comfort of my house, my bed, and Dog greeting me as soon as we were on the property. The journey finished soon enough with the sound of Dog barking at us as we turned onto the farm.

There was a relief that blossomed within me as I stepped away from the bike and my eyes took in my farm and my land. I had made it back to the calm, the peace and quiet. The dying daylight slid its fingers across it all, reaching between the trees and across the valley. This felt like home, a little slice of me anchored here.

I turned to face Sebastian who stayed on his bike. "Thank you." My throat clamped shut and I couldn't muster the right words. I didn't know what to say to him, I didn't know where we were in terms of our friendship anymore. A part of me felt that we had regressed, and I was at a loss for what to do.

He paused expectantly, but when I didn't continue, he merely nodded and sped off, taking that earlier sense of joy and home with him.

The beast in my heart purred with contentment.


	17. Chapter 17 - Works Like Magic

After a night of fitful sleep, the next morning dawned, cool and crisp. Looking out of my window, I felt sure that this was my favourite season yet out here in the valley. There was such a warmth emanating from the palette of reds, oranges, browns, and golds. It underscored the love I still felt for my parents, as well as the loneliness I felt out here in the valley. _I really should put more of an effort into making friends_ , I thought, chewing on the inside of my cheek. _Speaking of loneliness…_

A sigh escaped me as I pulled myself out of bed, and memories of yesterday's trip to the city flooded back to the forefront of my mind. They had been all I could think about last night and it became clear that they would consume me today as well. Over and over they played as I scoured and studied them, trying to ascertain what I had said, what I had done to create the rift between me and Sebastian.

I came up with nothing, at least nothing concrete. Sure, we had had differing opinions on some comics and books in the past, and there had been those awkward miscues and missteps bound to crop up in any relationship. But there had also been those insecurities on both our parts that had created those misunderstandings. Those were the only things I could remotely, possibly attribute to the sudden coldness between us. Perhaps my annoying tics had become apparent to him after we had spent all day together yesterday. Perhaps he had grown tired of me. Perhaps whatever affliction had plagued my previous friendships had finally caught up with this one. It could have been anything, everything, and nothing.

Stepping outside, I filled my lungs with the fresh, cool air, shivering with unprecedented exhilaration. This was so much better than the stifling hot of summer. I pet Dog as he ran by, tongue hanging out, panting hard. At least this aspect of my life felt like it wasn't falling apart.

Truth be told, my farm was flourishing. I had gotten a barn built recently and had even bought my first cow – I had had the foresight to name her Cow 1, Wunnie for short. Now that I had fresh milk at my disposal, I had the option of making cheese, which was a nice revenue booster. Along with the mayonnaise made from the eggs of my now four chickens, I was able to consistently make close to a thousand gold a day on animal products alone. On top of my crop yields, I was making a pretty penny for myself, which only opened up the paths to upgrading my coop and barn, which in turn would bring in more profit. It was a pleasant surprise just how lucrative farming could be.

 _It's almost as much as you'd be making as an intermediate programmer at Joja_ , that voice in my head reminded me. I didn't want to think about the city today, and so stifled that thought.

As I tended to my crops and then my animals, my thoughts spun back, the mindlessness of the tasks allowing my worries to creep back in. I wondered if maybe I had imagined that coolness, that bite beneath his words. Perhaps I had misunderstood his discomfort and tone of voice. Maybe I was being paranoid.

I checked the time. It was still quite early in the morning, and Sebastian wouldn't be up yet. This gave me some time to forage and fish by the river before I could even think about confronting him. I felt slightly ill thinking about seeing him today, but I knew that I should. I felt as though I hadn't properly thanked him yesterday for providing my transportation free of charge. He had also endured my parents, which was big, to me at least. Patting Dog on the head one more time, I trudged south to the edge of my property.

I took my time meandering through Cindersap Forest, whacking at trees with my axe as I went, never quite hitting them enough times to yield any lumber. The solid force of the hit was grounding, and its reverberation through me kept my mind off of everything else. I let myself be pulled off the path by mushrooms, hazelnuts, and wild plums begging to be plucked off the ground. Too soon I was at the river, fishing rod clutched in my hands, and I thought of how many minutes I had taken to get here.

 _Not enoug_ h, I thought sadly as I shuffled into position. I baited my hook and took a moment to breathe.

Casting my line, I espied the wizard's tower in my periphery, the dark, silent giant hovering just at the edge of the woods. From most angles it was obscured by the canopy of trees, but from here the path was less treed and I had a startlingly good view of it. Tearing my gaze away from it, an idea bubbled into being at the back of my mind. The weight of my money was suddenly very noticeable in my pocket. My palms became clammy and I clamped my lips together, trying to contain the thought that was slowly but surely pressing its way forward. But I needed to know, I needed to try.

Tucking my fishing rod away, I locked my gaze on Rasmodius's tower and began walking. My steps felt heavy, but I pulled my shoulders back and made my way up the steps with some semblance of confidence in my posture.

I raised my hand to knock on the front door, but before my knuckles even brushed the wood, it opened, leaving my hand suspended. I felt my resolve falter for a second. Steeling myself, I pushed my way inside.

"Hey Rasmodius," I murmured, shutting the door behind myself. My gaze fell on the wizard, who stood over his cauldron, expression clouded by concentration.

"Ah, yes, you." His eyes snapped to focus and he unleashed a glittering, sage smile on me. "I've been—"

"You've been expecting me, yes, I'm sure." Waving a dismissive hand, I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Surely this was not the time to tease at provoking the wizard. "So do you know why I'm here?"

His grin widened. "I have an inkling."

"Cool," I said through gritted teeth, and made my way to the stairs at the back of the room without giving him another glance. Haughtily, I strode down the stairs, a lightness affecting my stride as I approached the mirror. I stopped.

It was unchanged from when I last saw it, but this time I detected a strange energy from it that beckoned and called to me. Now that the mirror was right here in front of me, a cold sweat broke out all over my body and a sense of unease permeated my mind. What was I doing? Was this a good idea? Would this work? How much would this change me? I swallowed audibly as Rasmodius's footsteps approached behind me.

"Is there a problem?" he intoned, his words taking on a dark, insidious pleasantness.

"No," I growled, "there's no problem."

"I'm surprised actually," he said, and he began to circle around me, his long robes swishing as he went. "I'm surprised you resisted for so long."

"I am just full of surprises."

"And so how does it feel now, hm? How does it feel to present yourself to the myriad opportunities my friendship offers you?"

"It feels wrong," I spat, swelling with a false confidence. "All of this feels wrong. This isn't natural."

"This is magic," Rasmodius said simply, pausing in his pacing, and an ominous tickle began just behind my ear. "Rich, ancient, unrestrained, electric magic. And it is the most natural thing in the world." There was something more to his words, something grave and deadly that seemed to cut clean through me despite being intangible.

A shiver escaped my grasp and lapped down my spine, making me feel as though ice was being injected into my back. As my gaze returned to the mirror in front of me, I drew in a breath and that strange interface cast across my mind's eye once more. My heart thumped with the thrill of possibility. There was a series of options to change so many aspects of my appearance, from the details of my face to my clothes.

"How do I even use this thing?" I muttered, pressing my fingers to the glass.

"Not by touch," Rasmodius said testily. I felt the sudden urge to remove my hand from the cold, smooth surface. "Try using your mind. This is a deep, arcane magic that plays off the desires of the soul, the mind, and the heart."

Once more, I swallowed noisily, the sensation catching in my dry throat. My reflection stared back at me with fear and nervousness. Hesitantly, I tried imagining myself with purple hair.

I swore lightly under my breath as my eyes focused on my reflection in front of me – except it wasn't quite my reflection returning my stare. Gaping back at me was me, but with violently purple locks of hair sprouting from my scalp, contrasting luridly against my sun-kissed skin. Well, that wouldn't do, I thought boldly. Thinking back to the interface of options, I carefully imagined myself with pale, alabaster skin – the skin of someone who didn't spend time in the sun working the land. A wave of disbelief strummed through me as my reflection updated to reflect my new look. I looked down at myself and gulped down the internal screaming that streamed through my head. The changes weren't just to my reflection.

I noticed Rasmodius once more, lurking just outside my line of sight. He was strangely quiet, maybe even contemplative.

"What?" I demanded, feeling a heat rise to my cheeks. He wasn't looking at me appraisingly, as I had expected, but his eyes relayed a specific brand of sadness that I could not discern. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the reasoning behind it or not.

"Hm?" Rasmodius surfaced from his reverie. "Oh, it's nothing. You just… resemble someone else now, someone I vaguely know, someone in town."

Shame cascaded down and around me. I knew exactly who he meant, which meant that my changes had achieved my original intentions. I should have felt pleased, but I only managed to feel a lukewarm response to my progress so far. My stomach churned as I thought about Sebastian.

"I'm not done yet," I said, peeved.

"Oh, I'm sure," he said, offering me a toothy grin that subsided rather quickly. He seemed aged since when I had first entered his tower.

Making an indistinct noise in my throat, I resumed this strange mental exercise of choosing my new look. The sense that I was an imposter or cheat rose up within me multiple times, but each time it did, I tamped it back down and reminded myself that this was the right decision, this was going to help me talk to Sebastian, and maybe we could move forward and get past all of these misunderstandings. In the end, I settled on vibrant purple hair, green eyes, pale skin, and full, red lips. I also picked out a new outfit for myself that was black and sleek. Gone was my boring brown hair, my plain brown eyes. Gone were my dirt-covered jeans and grubby, old t-shirt. I was a new person now.

 _Or maybe you're just a copy of Abigail_ , my inner voice taunted.

I studied my new self nervously. I couldn't deny that this look was much better suited to Sebastian, just based on pure aesthetics alone. I sucked in a breath. Perhaps now he would want me, and that damage I had done would be reversed. The insistent tug of hope lurked at the edge of my consciousness.

"Okay," I breathed, letting out a breath. "I'm done."

Rasmodius said nothing as he circled me one last time, though I thought a sigh slipped free from him as his eyes took in my new eyes and hair. Finally he nodded and spoke, "That'll be 500g."


	18. Chapter 18 - Heartache

As I approached the door to Sebastian's home, my knees buckled and I unceremoniously fell into a heap on the ground. My breathing was ragged and laboured, my nerves were getting to me. After my transformation, I had carefully retraced my steps back to my farm, managing to avoid running into anyone else. I had scurried north, past my coop and barn, past my fields of crops. I didn't even pet Dog as I ran by him, his head cocked to the side as he gave me a tentative sniff. I realized as I backtracked that I hadn't even attended to my mailbox earlier. The flag was up, but I was in no mood to read sad, cloying messages from my mother.

I had made a beeline to the mountain path that connected my farm to Sebastian and the caves. I was thankful that no one frequented the path, and I managed to make it through without having to explain awkwardly to anyone else why I now looked like this.

Was I ashamed? Partly. Mostly, I was just nervous about the strange conclusions people would jump to. Perhaps I was Abigail's long-long sibling, come to take her away. Or maybe I was an emissary of the wizard's – my hair was about the right shade of purple. And did anyone suspect that I had feelings for Sebastian? Potentially, Sam did. But would he be able to put two and two together to nail down the root cause for my updated appearance? To me, it seemed unlikely. What was most important was that Sebastian had to be the one to see me first, a funny sort of paradox given that he was the last one in the town that I had met. It was strange how two seasons' worth of time could change things so drastically.

But now, puddled on his front doorstep, I had lost my will to keep going. I could not bring myself to go inside, I could not bring myself to see Sebastian or Robin or anyone else who might be there. Fear seized me and I realized how many people came by to visit Robin – Abigail or even the mayor could be inside right now, just moments away from catching me collapsed on the doorstep. News that juicy would spread through the town like wildfire .

Keeping myself low to the ground so as not to be seen through a window, I held my breath and picked my way back, away from the door. I slipped behind a bush, keeping my eyes trained on the door, ears straining to catch any sounds that might be human in origin. I took a moment to anchor the rhythm of my breathing.

Like this, I managed to shuffle my way east, to the cover of foliage and the edge of the lake.

I checked the time, my breath catching once more as I realized that noon had passed. Sebastian would be coming to the lake soon – his new autumnal habit. Underneath all my fear, I felt excitement rush thickly in my veins. _This could be it_ , I thought. _This could be the moment when he realizes that I could be right for him_.

The thought slipped from the confines of my mind and I allowed myself one pure moment of truth and clarity.

I was, in fact, in love with Sebastian.

I waited for some sort of sign that this confession was wrong – an earthquake, the apocalypse, a fissure in the earth swallowing me whole – but admitting it to myself only brought relief. My heart pounded as I heard the creak of Robin's front door and a set of familiar footsteps tap along the dirt path and enter the grass. He was close now, I could tell.

I waited silently, patiently, composing myself such that I faced the lake. My back would be the first side of me he'd see – just nonchalant enough of a pose to derive an illusory sense of confidence. My excitement only mounted as I imagined how his eyes would widen, how his breathing would hitch.

His footsteps stuttered, perhaps with some hesitance, and then I could feel him stop. There was a stillness permeating the moment, an absence that spoke volumes and gave away no secrets.

"Oh," he said softly as he must have caught sight of me. I turned and suddenly he came into view, stress lining his face. Did he not recognize me at all? Was I a stranger in violation of his space? This was where we had talked and hung out in the past; he had to know it could only be me here.

His eyes widened before narrowing, recognition registering on his face. I held my breath as he spoke, "What did you do to yourself?"

He inched closer, his gaze flicking from me and away as he came nearer. His brows pinched together, and the excitement I had been harbouring evaporated. I knew this look.

"I thought maybe I should update my appearance." I swallowed noisily. "I thought maybe you'd prefer this."

"And why would you think that?" The slice of cold behind his question made me wince, the bitterness of it biting at my ego.

But my ego snapped back. I pressed my lips together, stifling the words that wanted to burst out of me. I had to be calm, I had to fight my case. There were two players in this game. But as I took in his cold stare and the sense of betrayal that emanated from him, I felt the words fight their way up my throat until I thought that I would vomit.

The words spewed forth of their own accord, "Because I see the way you look at Abigail, and I see how you dress and I know that the way I looked before was just—" I struggled against the words, but they won as I lost my grip. "I just looked awful and simple, like some unrefined, grubby farmer. I wasn't who I thought you should be with, I didn't look like Abigail."

There was a pause.

"You think I like Abigail in that way?"

"Yes," I sputtered.

He shook his head, his mouth pressed into a tight line, eyes etched with sadness and the slow burn of frustration. "You have no idea."

"What was I supposed to think?"

A moment of silence hung in the air between us. "Whatever," he muttered, not even looking at me.

I felt my heart shatter.

"Sebastian," I began, but he shook his head once more and I stopped.

He lifted his chin, mouth set firmly. His gaze was dark and piercing, and even now as coldness swept between us, the broken pieces of my heart hammered in my chest. "I guess I should tell you." His words were said with a disparaging air and a weariness that settled into the creases of his brow.

"Tell me what?" A thousand guesses raced through my mind, but only one remained steadfastly stubborn. Was he about to confess his true, surfacing feelings for Abigail? _I knew it_ , my inner voice screamed, but I kept it internal.

He looked away as though to take me in caused him pain. "It's clear now, crystal clear. I was thinking about this all of yesterday night and made my decision this morning. There's nothing left for me here."

I narrowed my eyes, and felt my pulse stop. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be true. The world had slipped off of its axis, and we were all spiraling, cut loose from our invisible tether. "What do you mean?" The question sounded more breathless than I had wanted and I silently cursed myself.

"I'm leaving for the city on Friday."

"What? Like you're moving there? Permanently?"

"Yes."

I had to take a step back. "No," I murmured, shaking my head. Every dark, hidden fear within me thrashed into being, scrabbling for release. Somewhere in the centre of my chest, that beast roared and sliced through the remaining restraints. "You can't." My voice cracked.

"What do you mean?" he asked, keeping his own voice even and smooth in spite of the flashing of his eyes. I could have swooned, the darkness was so enticing. "It was you who made the choice clear to me."

"What are you talking about?" My brow furrowed and I felt the flicker of anger ignite inside me, just the beginnings of a flame.

"We're just friends. You made that pretty clear. That's what you told your mother, like you were ashamed of me."

The burden of realization began its descent, a freefall of shame and disquietude. The roiling spring of words within me that had gurgled forth so freely before, dried up now. "That's—I didn't mean—" I balled my hands into fists and knuckled my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut. "I only wanted to protect you. I didn't want that pressure on either of us of having to define our relationship. I could never be ashamed of you." I stared up at him in disbelief.

"What relationship? We're _friends_." His arms crossed over his chest, and he leaned away from me, eyeing me coolly. "Even after all the time we spent together, and the discussions about programming and comics and books – you wanted us to just be friends." His voice had risen with the passion of his distress. "I don't open up to just anyone. I've told you things I've never told anyone else – not Abigail, not even Sam, and Sam's been my best friend for almost my entire life. I thought you knew that. I thought you knew me better than that."

"I did," I stammered. "I do."

"I thought we knew each other."

"I… thought we did, too," I said weakly, my gaze dropping to the ground. "I didn't know. I didn't think you liked me like… that." The reality of the situation was sinking in, burrowing its way into the curls and corners of my consciousness. I had royally fucked up. Had it really been that all along he had liked me, genuinely and truly? As more than a friend? It just seemed so hard to believe, after all those looks he had bestowed on her, those glances exchanged just out of my reach. I thought of that third seat in his room around the board game.

"Of course I did. And even now, I still do." A note of disgust laced his tone, but I felt my face burn from the heat of my blush. "But that's why I need to leave. I need to get away from here. So thank you for that."

I gaped at him. "Sebastian, I..." The words died on my tongue.

"And for the record, I liked you the way you were, before you turned into… this," he gestured with his chin at me, keeping his hands tucked into his upper arms. "Did you think this would tempt me? That purple hair could undo what you said? Everything about you now seems false."

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, the last remaining fight in me extinguished with his statement. "I—I'm sorry," I managed, angrily brushing away the tears that had escaped my lashes. Despair clawed its way down my insides, but I managed to keep my head held high.

We stood awkwardly for a moment as I drew large, gulping breaths. I studied him, trying to memorize the lines of his jaw, the way his hair fell over his face. His dark eyes glinted in the light of a stray sunbeam, a reflection of misery and pain. I let my eyes hungrily trace the curve of his lips. Even now, after he had stripped away all of my shields and self-protection, all I wanted to do was fold myself into him and burrow into the heat of his body.

"Please, just leave," he said, tiredly, and I felt the remaining fight leave him as well. And then he landed one last blow, "After Friday, I never want to see you again."


	19. Chapter 19 - The Monster Under the Bed

The rain returned in full force, catching me in a haze. I appreciated having the excuse of it for not seeing my fellow townsfolk. I kept indoors, venturing out only to tend to my animals and visit Rasmodius one last time to revert all of my physical changes. Another 500g went down the drain, but the loss of it was nothing compared to the abyssal gash in my heart.

I had last seen Sebastian on Tuesday, and today was Thursday. Tomorrow he would be setting out for his new home in the city. Every time I thought about it, my stomach dropped a little lower, and an uneasiness filled me. I knew the city, and I knew how badly it could burn and destroy people. Perhaps my decision to bring Sebastian to my little pocket of sanity within the urban jungle had backfired on me. The remorse settled heavily in me Tuesday night, and most of my hours of darkness were spent wiping away tears and trying in vain to soothe the rawness that his words had left in me. For the first time in many weeks, I was having nightmares again.

Wednesday had been much the same, though running in the rain must have brought on a dizzying head cold, which had persisted through most of the day, and then into the night. Misery was my sole companion now, as I could not bring myself to pet Dog or fill his water dish. He was fine; he didn't need me, though I felt guilty for failing to offer him my companionship in return. Although sleep had dulled the ache in my chest, the beast seemed to burrow deeper inside, wrapping itself around the jagged edges that had formed the previous night.

Today was Thursday, and though the pain was still there, the rain of the last couple days had abraded some of the aching. My head still felt like shit, but at least it throbbed less despite my congestion. It was hard for me to filter out what pain was from Sebastian and what pain was from my illness, though I had a feeling that the pain from Sebastian's leaving would persist for a long while. This was reality, and it was of my own creation.

I knocked back an energy tonic Harvey had prescribed to me. It was time to face the day. Gathering my courage, I finally opened my mailbox and retrieved the mail that had accumulated over the last few days. Surprisingly my mother hadn't sent anything. There was, however, a letter from Mayor Lewis about the upcoming fair, and to my surprise, there was a letter from Pierre as well:

 _It seems like you're starting to get close with some of the townspeople. If you want to show someone that you're romantically interested, you've got to give them one of my beautiful flower bouquets. I'm selling them now, for a very fair price! If you want to start a family someday, this is the first step!_

 _\- Pierre_

I stared blankly at the letter in my hands for a few seconds. Was this some kind of sick joke? Did Pierre know about our falling out? Why would he send me such a message? I crumpled the letter up and tossed it into the shipping bin with the force of the indignant fire that had flared up inside me.

 _After Friday, I never want to see you again_. The words resounded in my head, and as I squished my way through the mud to my coop, I analyzed all of the emotions and tones behind his words.

I had no doubt that he was pained, that he felt betrayed. If only I had been honest with him and myself, today might have been a different kind of day. I imagined the two of us holed up in his bedroom, arranged in lounging positions on the couch or his bed, thumbing through comics and novels, incredulously exclaiming about tricky plot points and cracking programming jokes.

Why hadn't I just confessed before this had all crashed to the ground? The question plagued me, and every answer came up blank. I was a monster. I had thrown all of our hard work away, destroyed that carefully crafted trust, and blown it all to smithereens. To think about it broke my heart all over again.

And yet, as I thought of Pierre's letter once more, there was a small, fragile spark of hope. Today wasn't "after Friday", and he _had_ said that he still liked me. I had somehow gotten him to fall for me before. Maybe I still had time.

And maybe I could invoke an old debt to help me do it.

An idea was taking shape in my mind, and it was with determination that I strode into town, through the pouring rain and the pound of pain in my sinuses. I strode confidently to Sam's house and knocked on the door once before pushing it open.

No one was in the living room, so I headed for his room, mentally preparing myself all the while. His door opened with a small creak and I was greeted by his curious green eyes.

"Hi Sam," I said carefully, studying his expression.

He grinned back and I couldn't help but feel relieved. "Hey, farmer. How's it going?"

I hesitated, wondering how much Sebastian had told him. "Not great."

He nodded, giving me a knowing look. "Yeah, I can tell." He gestured for me to come into his room.

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. "So, you've heard?" I followed him inside and closed the door behind myself.

"That Sebastian's leaving? Yeah, of course. I'm his best friend, after all." He eyed me suspiciously, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, I _was_ until you came into the picture. But I don't mind." His expression cleared. "You should see how excited he gets when he talks about you. It's a little weird, but I'm happy to see him happy."

"So you knew," I said weakly. Perhaps this had all been obvious to everyone, everyone but me.

"Knew what?" He smirked, and leaned against his dresser.

Ass. I bit down my mounting frustration. "That he liked me," I growled.

"Duh."

"Well," I said forcefully, smoothing out a wrinkle in my shirt, "I don't think he'd be happy to talk about me now. I'm the reason he's moving away."

He hummed as he pondered what I said. "Hmm, you'd be surprised." He shrugged. "Is that why you're here? You wanted to talk about Sebastian?" That smirk crept its way back onto his face.

"Yes," I said and hesitated. "Well, _that_ and I've come to claim your debt to me."

"What debt?" He tried to make himself a nonchalant, blank slate, but I detected a nervousness in him.

"Remember when you dropped that egg and your mom came in here, raging and hollering? She was about to lay the smackdown on you. I'd think you'd remember that."

"Oh, right," he said slowly, almost sheepish. "What about that?"

"You owe me for covering for you."

"I'm the one that cleaned it up!"

"Yeah, but you let me take the fall. You _nudged_ me into taking the blame for that."

"Okay, okay, fine," he huffed. "Fair's fair."

"Excellent."

"So what do you want me to do exactly?" He looked more cautious and serious than I had ever seen him before.

"Don't worry, it's not too bad at all," I said, flashing a wicked grin.

Some minutes later, he was on his computer, slowly typing on the keyboard. Worry had stripped the grin from his face, but he didn't waver as I directed him. I tried not to think about how much faster Sebastian was at typing.

"Okay," Sam said, swiveling in his desk chair to face me. "Sebastian said he's coming over."

"Thanks." I mustered a tentative smile, not quite ready to feel triumphant. "I really appreciate it."

"Well, I owed you one, I guess." He smirked once more.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Now where's a good spot for me to hide?"

He pushed back his chair and stood up, hand scratching at his chin as he surveyed his room. "Can you squeeze under my bed?"

I stared at him, but he didn't break out a grin or even attempt at cajoling me. I grimaced. "I guess so."

Gingerly, I sank to the floor and crawled toward his bed. I peered underneath, into the darkness. As my eyes adjusted, I took in dust bunnies and discarded socks. My gaze fell on a lump that stood out from the more familiar shapes. Revolted, I reared back. "Is that a dead mouse?"

Sam scratched his head. "Oh, maybe that's why it stinks sometimes. I wonder how long it's been there."

Glaring at him, I pulled myself back onto my feet. "Any other ideas?"

"I can clear out a dresser drawer for you."

I quirked an eyebrow and eyed his dresser. "I mean, I'm not big, but even I can't fit into one of those without decapitating myself first."

"Well, I can only think of one other option." He grinned toothily.

Oh shit, what had I gotten myself into? "Where?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

He pointed at his unmade bed and started snickering.

I gaped at him, eyes wide. "No way. I think I'd rather get cozy with the dead mouse than hide under your covers." I shook my head vehemently. "When's the last time you washed your sheets?"

He shrugged. "No idea. Wherever you pick, you'd better get into position. He's a pretty fast walker."

I resisted the urge to clock him in the face.

I stood in front of his bed. Before me lay two bad options, but there was one that was decidedly worse. Plugging my nose, I dropped to the floor once more and rolled underneath the bed just as we caught the sound of the front door opening. I nudged the dead mouse away from my face, forcing down the wave of illness that threatened to take me over.

I noticed Sam's momentary look of panic towards where I was hidden, but his attention snapped into place as Sebastian knocked and pushed into the room. I pulled back just in time.

"Hey," Sebastian said glumly, and I felt my heart beat to life at the sound of his voice.

"Oh, hi," Sam said with a small half-laugh, and I silently grimaced into my hands.

Sebastian shut the door behind himself and ventured further into the room. "What was so urgent that you needed me over here to talk about?"

"Right," Sam said slowly, as though he were grasping around for words. "The thing."

Sebastian waited patiently, moseying on over to the keyboard, his usual spot during band practice. He said nothing, though I could hear the faint tap-tap of his fingers restlessly drumming against the keys.

"Well, so," Sam began, swallowing, "you know the farmer, right?" He paused. "Haha, well, of course you do."

A sigh escaped Sebastian and I longed to see his face, to see a hint as to what lay behind the sigh. "Go on," he said, voice strained, and I imagined him running a hand through his thick, messy, dark hair.

"Well," Sam ventured, and I sensed him trying to buy himself time. "Would it be okay by you," he continued, a sneaking confidence taking over, "if we started dating?"

My jaw dropped, and I had to clench my hands into fists and tuck them into my mouth to stop myself from screaming. What the hell was he playing at? I made up my mind there and then to clobber Sam when this was done. Of all the nerve.

Sebastian said nothing, and I wondered if he was as shocked to hear this as I was.

"I mean," Sam began, and I heard the rustle of his shirt as he raised an arm so he could rub the back of his neck. "Are there still feelings there... For you?"

I quietly breathed a sigh of relief. At least Sam had delivered. This is what I needed to know.

"Of course there still are," Sebastian said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't stop what I'm feeling, who I think about all the damn time. This would be a lot easier if I could stop, but I can't, and it's driving me crazy."

My heart could have sang the darkest, grittiest nocturne – my hopes had soared so high into the darkened heavens.

"Maybe you two should talk it out," Sam suggested slowly. "It sounds like things aren't over yet between you."

"That's not on me," Sebastian said sharply, and my heart sank lower in my chest, grounded once more. "I've said my piece. Unless something drastic happens, my decision is final, and tomorrow I'll be moving away."

"That's fair," Sam said sagely. "Are you sure you have to move away?" I appreciated the appropriate amount of whining he had injected into his voice.

"I need to get out of here. Since that night we got back from the city, it feels like the valley is suffocating me. Aside from you and my mom," he paused, "I have no ties here."

They lapsed into silence.

"I guess the idea of me and the farmer dating is a no-go then?" Sam asked tentatively, and I could have throttled him in that moment.

Sebastian let out a dry, hollow laugh. "Until tomorrow night. After tomorrow, I don't care. Farmers will be the last things on my mind, I'm going to be so busy."

Sam matched his laugh with one of his own, equally as dusty and empty. "You make a good point."

I saw Sebastian's feet pivot and turn back towards the door. "If that's everything, I'm going to head out now."

"Yeah, that's it."

"Cool. It was nice coming back here actually. I feel like I got to say farewell to your room, your synth."

"Lots of good memories here, for sure."

"I think I'll head to the beach and take in that view one last time."

"Sounds good. I'll drop by tomorrow before you leave. I think I can get out of my shift."

"That'd be great."

Sam paused. "I'll walk you out."

I heard their receding footsteps grow fainter until the only sounds left were the patter of rain against the roof and the light whoosh of my own breathing.

Once Sam reentered his room and shut the bedroom door behind himself, I crawled out from my hiding spot. I took a few big, gulping breaths, trying to force some clarity into my head.

It was refreshing to see Sam so thoughtful and worn.

"You're going to the beach, aren't you?" he asked, though the question didn't even reflect in his eyes. He knew my answer already.

I nodded. "It's my last shot."

He nodded in agreement. "Then go."

Heading for the door, I stopped just with my hand on the knob. "Thanks, Sam. I just really needed to hear him say that there's a chance."

"I know."

"I'd really appreciate if you didn't tell anyone that I was hiding under your bed."

A fleeting smile flicked the edge of his mouth up. "No guarantees. But, pro-tip," he began, "if I were you, I'd consider buying one of those bouquets Pierre sells."

I gave him a questioning look, but he just shrugged.

"You'd better not go and break his heart again." He narrowed his eyes at me. "Or you'll have to answer to me, too."

I nodded and left.


	20. Chapter 20 - Eight Hearts, Yearning

It was still raining when I left the warm confines of Sam's house. With every step that I took towards the sea, my heart leapt a little higher in my throat and I feared it would choke me. Time was slipping through my fingers as Friday marched ever-closer. I quickened my pace.

The beach was soggy and grey, abandoned save for the lone figure poised at the end of the pier. A blustery wind whipped grains of sand at the hems of my jeans, coating my sneakers, pressing rain through my clothes into my skin. The usual warmth of autumn had been leeched away, a reflection of the state of my heart. I was thankful for the roar of the waves and whistling of the wind that filled my head with a furious sound that encompassed most of my thoughts. My hands shook as I approached the dock.

I stepped softly onto the worn wood, unsure if I wanted my presence to be known yet. On the one hand, I didn't want to startle him, but on the other, I didn't think I could stand to see what his reaction to my approach would be. I kept my footsteps light, but he seemed to sense me as I took my last few steps towards him.

"Sebastian," I said, my voice sounding fragile against the swirl of nature's sounds. In spite of it all, his name tasted sweet on my lips, a vow laced with the ambrosial scent of pine on a cool summer's night. I approached him and stood just to his left. I was careful to keep the distance between us substantial.

"Hey," he said stiffly, his eyes darting to me and then away. "I'm surprised to find you out here." He grimaced as though disturbed by how he'd betrayed himself in voicing that statement.

"Why?" I sniffed and wiped at my nose with my sleeve.

He gave me a very pointed look before flushing and assuming a grave expression.

I shrugged. "Feeling under the weather doesn't stop me from enjoying the rain. And I had a feeling you'd be here."

His shoulders lifted slightly and as they dropped, he exhaled heavily. "Why are you here?"

The question took me by surprise and I hesitated, running my tongue over my teeth as I thought. How could I capture the whirlwind of emotions inside my head with a simple sentence? I picked my words carefully. "I've come to talk." I swallowed. "I've come to tell you all the things that I've been too scared to say."

He paused. "Are you afraid of me?" The question was hard and gloomy.

I thought for a moment. "No," I said simply. "I'm afraid of—" I stopped myself. What _was_ I afraid of? Him laughing at me? Him being upset by my confession of feelings? Neither of those were right; he would never do such things and I knew just how out of character either of those reactions would be.

Unable to stop itself, my face reddened as nervousness clamped down on my tongue. Yoba, this was going to kill me. I took a few steadying breaths. "I'm afraid of losing you."

He blinked rapidly for a few seconds before sighing again, more lightly. "And what if you've already lost me?"

"Then I've failed both of us."

Unexpectedly, his mouth quirked up at one side for the merest of moments, and I wasn't sure how satisfied he was with my answer. His gaze remained trained on me, dark and expectant. I could feel my resolve slipping and I mentally swore as I tried not to drown in it.

 _Breathe_ , I told myself.

I took a deep breath, my heartbeat pounding in my head. Here goes nothing. "I swear that I am telling the truth when I say that I like you and have feelings for you." I had anticipated a sudden lightness to result from my confession, but all I felt was the weight of the silence between us punctuated by the patter of heavy raindrops hitting the dock.

His gaze softened, but his mouth remained hard and unyielding. There was a certain magic to confession, that blatant baring of the soul that said more than the confession itself, and I prayed that some of that magic had worked on him.

"I appreciate you telling me." He paused as his lips took on a frown. "Finally."

"Sebastian," I said again, unable to deny myself this simple pleasure of saying his name. The syllables felt smooth, like shadows drenched in honey. I could not predict how many more times I would be saying it in the future and I was desperate to get my fill. "You are the most important thing to me. I made too many mistakes in not telling you so sooner."

"So what are you saying?"

I swallowed, forcing myself to meet his piercing gaze. My pulse throbbed. "I'm saying that I'm sorry for not being open, for doubting the feelings that you felt for me. I let myself believe that you could not possibly like me. I thought that being friends was all that you wanted. At the very least, you were my best friend, I just didn't think you wanted anything more."

He was silent, pondering my words. It seemed too early to tell what he was thinking, though his eyebrows pulled together and a small dimple formed beside his mouth.

"I know better now," I added.

He held up a hand and spoke, "Did it never occur to you that I might be feeling the same things? That maybe I thought that all _you_ wanted was to be friends?"

"No," I admitted quietly.

"Then maybe we don't know each other yet as well as either of us thought."

There was that word again: _yet_. It taunted and teased me, hinting at things just out of reach. I felt stricken by its bold entrance now. "You're right. We don't," I said weakly.

The waves crashed up against the pilings of the dock, and I realized how turbulent the water was. Rain hit the pier with a satisfying symphony of percussive sound. Against the grey sky, the water felt ferocious and alive. We stood close without speaking a word to each other, together and yet alone in our independent thoughts. Country folk or city folk, rain touched us all the same.

"I just," I began, and sighed. "I just wish that you would rethink moving to the city tomorrow." I began to compile a list of all the reasons, but he spoke before I had a chance to relay it all to him.

He shuffled slightly as his voice rang out in a weary timbre. "I'll think about it."

Relief poured over me as my inner voice warned against celebrating prematurely. The threat of him moving away was still very real, I could not mistaken this small victory for a true win.

"In the end, it's your choice," I said, spitting my words into the wind. The gravitas of them came back on a breeze to me. "I just want you to know that I like you. You don't have to move away, and no matter what you decide, I will always be your friend." I swallowed down a sob. I didn't want to cry, though with all the rain sliding down my face, it would have been hard to tell.

He nodded slowly beside me. "I'll think about it," he repeated once more, and we lapsed into silence.

My thoughts bounced from topic to topic. I wasn't sure if I should try to initiate conversation – were we back on at least that basic level of friendship that allowed for smalltalk? Somehow it felt like I had a million things to tell him, and yet I possessed none of the words to discuss them with. I thought of my farm, and I thought of how lonely I was on those dark, starless nights when the clouds smothered the light. My thoughts returned to the sea.

The wind had picked up once again, and I pulled on a lock of hair plastered to my forehead. Despite being soaked, I relished the thrill of the storm.

 _Sunny beaches are overrated_ , I thought. Wet, grey beaches in the middle of a storm contained some link to another world, some other dimension that demanded an honesty of thoughts and emotions.

"You really enjoy this miserable stuff, don't you?" he asked, lifting a hand, palm up to cup the rain. His accompanying smile was limned with bitterness.

"I do," I stated simply. It wasn't a lie by any means. Rain had always meant peace and calm to me. Even in the city, fewer people would venture forth, and streets would approach derelict states. Now, rain still meant those things, but it also meant that I didn't have to water my own crops. In recent times, it meant that I could depend on Sebastian coming outside to enjoy it.

We stood for a moment longer in silence, my gaze flicking to him every so often as he fidgeted with his hands in his pockets.

As though sensing my gaze, he spoke softly, in a tone that caressed the air in spite of itself. "Look at those dark clouds looming over the horizon… I hope they come this way."

I gazed in the direction he gestured towards and my heart fluttered with hope.

"I like this weather because it makes everyone disappear… you know?"

"I do," I said again, quietly. "It didn't make me disappear, though," I said, my voice low, not daring to look at him. "But I can vanish if you'd like. There'd be no trace of me."

I realized with a slow burn that my words carried another meaning with them, one that had not occurred to my consciousness, at least not immediately. There was nothing stopping me from leaving Stardew Valley completely. I had had my taste of the city, and it had scraped and clawed at my insides, lapping at my wounds with its sweet poison thick on its tongue. There was no tether attaching me to the valley, nothing except for Sebastian. And if he was gone…

I watched raindrops collect on his lashes and he blinked them away as his eyes widened. "No, please," he began, and the tail of his words caught in his throat. "I mean—that's not what I meant," he stammered, and swallowed hard. "You and your farm mean a lot to the community. And, I mean, I could see that the city made you uncomfortable. I've never seen you so tense, but you seemed to be in your element, taking me around to look at things."

"I know," I murmured. "It's a weird place for me mentally. There are lots of memories there, plenty of good, but also a ton of bad. I had found my way through it, I guess. I made myself put up with a lot of things there, but the quality of living just isn't the same. Life is unbelievably good out here, I have no doubts about it. It's just," I hesitated and felt my face burn, "if you aren't here, I'm not sure why I should stay."

An emotion or understanding flickered in his eyes, I wasn't sure which, but my heart leapt to my throat. Something untenable in this moment was perfect. The air was full, brimming with anticipation and something darker, something beautiful and boundless. I dared a longer glance at Sebastian and caught his gaze on me, taking me in. His lips parted and his eyes were wide. With his gaze, it was like a second skin had slipped over me – a second skin that was warm and clung to me in all the right places, an extra layer to protect and assure me.

Or maybe it was that energy tonic talking.

"Being around people makes me feel anxious. I don't feel that way around you, though." Even in the grey light that spilled over us, I saw him blush. He could not mask his embarrassment this time.

I wanted to take his hand. I wanted to lean into him. I wanted to touch his cheek and reassure him. My fantastical wants played across my mind's eye and I quivered from the sick guilt I felt from it. In reality, all I could do was stare at him and give him an encouraging smile.

"We're getting soaked," he said, his face flushing once more. From his pocket, he produced a small white and red umbrella. With a click he popped it open and held it up. "Here, there's room for two."

"Thanks," I said and bowed my head briefly before pressing myself closer to him.

He leaned into me as well until he seemed to catch himself and flinch.

"I know this is going to sound selfish, but I don't want you to leave," I croaked into the rain-soaked air.

"I'll think about it," he said again, and I could have sworn that this time, he sounded miserable as well.


	21. Chapter 21 - Homecoming

I remembered when Fridays were days that I looked forward to. Back when I had been working for Joja Corp., making it to Friday had always been one of two main goals for the week. The other main goal was to not get fired.

Friday had been that one day when management might forgive you for missing your bus or failing to make it onto the jam-packed subway trains at exactly 8 o'clock. On occasion, we would actually have lunch provided for us some Fridays, though the food was often bland and not filling, supplied by some catering company that spent all day churning out sandwiches and salads stuffed with limp lettuce and not-quite-ripe tomatoes. Still, I couldn't ignore the attempt at creating some kind of positive company culture.

On the flip side, Fridays had also been popular days for letting people go. Mornings would be comprised of rushed goodbyes, and afternoons would vacillate between sombre and thankful silences. It was strange to think of how drastically my idea of Friday had changed in less than a year.

And here I was again, facing another, different kind of day of reckoning.

After getting maybe four hours of sleep, Friday dawned bright and warm. The rain had disappeared as swiftly as it had arrived, and I had mixed feelings about this change in weather. Rain and coolness had generally meant good things in terms of my friendship with Sebastian – more days spent outside in the spaces where people would normally frequent, and more temperatures that didn't induce sweating. Was the lack of rain today a sign that this was an ill-fated day?

"Today's the day," I said to Dog as I gave him a pat on the head and headed into town.

It didn't seem to matter that I was taking my sweet time getting up to the mountain. The paths were too short, the sun crept too slowly across the sky. I wasn't ready to say good-bye. There was a note of finality in the crisp autumn air, and I felt strangely like I was grieving as I marched to my judgment.

 _Don't be silly_ , I chided myself. It was Sebastian who was moving away, not I. If anything, _he_ should have been the one wandering these paths, soaking in the last glorious bits of the valley's beauty available to him.

As my boots gripped the steady incline of the mountain, dread washed over me, familiar and unabashed. All too soon, the familiar house came into view. There was no turning back.

I took a deep breath as I made slow, deliberate steps towards his house. My knees started to shake as I saw that his garage door was open, and there, just inside was Sebastian. He wore his usual black hoodie and jeans. I paused and watched him work on his bike, polishing it and making various final adjustments for his last ride out of here towards his new home.

Steeling myself, I made my approach.

He looked up as he heard me, his hair falling over one eye as he straightened up.

I couldn't wait for him to greet me first. "I'm glad I didn't miss you," I blurted out, "you know, leaving."

He nodded, but said nothing. Pushing the hair out of his face, he eyed me carefully.

I swallowed noisily and prepared myself. I had rehearsed so many words and variations of them, and yet I still didn't know which ones would be right. I knew that he wanted my honesty, that he in fact valued sincerity. For that, I was thankful, though in some ways it made this all so much harder. I took a deep breath and felt the bite of resolve sink its teeth into me. "I don't know what you've decided, but I want you to know that I will support you however I can."

His expression did not change, though I suspected that I saw acknowledgement flicker in his eyes. "I really appreciate it."

"That being said, I'm sure you're aware that I – and Sam – would really, really appreciate if you didn't leave." I laughed nervously. "Just think, without you it'd be me and Sam hanging out at events together." In spite of myself, I made a face. Dear Yoba, this was not coming out like I had rehearsed in any iteration.

He shifted, looking almost bemused for a moment. "You know, Sam wants to date you."

I froze, trying to read his body language. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he seemed to be chewing on his bottom lip.

"R-really? This is the first I've heard of it." I pressed my lips into a tight line, contemplating my next statement. I had to tread carefully now. "I would reject him so hard, he'd regret ever entertaining the thought of it."

He snorted slightly, just enough to indicate that he found amusement in what I'd said. "He can be pretty persistent when he puts his mind to it." A smile played around his lips – a challenge, a question, another way of saying "go on".

I shook my head. "He's got to be dreaming if he thinks I would date him."

"Is the idea really so hard to believe?"

"Yes," I said plaintively.

He gave me a questioning look.

"It's simple, I'm not attracted to him. He's not my type."

"And what's your type?"

I swallowed, feeling a familiar heat rise to my cheeks. "That's none of your business," I snapped perhaps a little too harshly.

"Oh, come on, humour me _one last time_." That bitterness was back, infecting his words.

A chill crawled down my spine and my heart sank. If this was to be the last time, then what was there to lose? "My type," I began slowly, "is someone who is a thinker, someone who I can have lengthy, stimulating conversations with. That someone has to be smart, and I don't just mean book smarts, but they have to be clever and witty. I'd prefer someone who isn't super talkative, someone who appreciates a silence filled with mutual understanding. On top of all that, I like a guy with nice hair and an awkwardness about him. It's endearing. And ideally, he'd have just enough of an edge that he would be okay with my quirks and weird tastes." I paused, searching for a way to cap off my remarks. "Oh, and having some shared hobbies would be a bonus, but that might be something that me and Sam actually _do_ have so I'd rather leave that off my criteria."

He was silent, his dark eyes studying me with a weary sadness. "You've put a lot of thought into it."

"Not really," I said flippantly and shrugged. "I just had to think of my favourite person and list all of their attributes." I looked away as my cheeks continued their slow burn.

He said nothing, only sighed and leaned against the garage door frame. His arms remained crossed over his chest, though they seemed less tense and strict in their positioning.

"So," I began, desperate to salvage the situation, "when is Sam coming over to say his good-byes? I should probably let you get back to packing and preparing before he comes and monopolizes the rest of your time. I'm sure he'll have lots to say, given that you've been friends for so long."

"He should be here soon," he stated simply, belying nothing.

Defeat settled itself like a heavy mantle on my shoulders. I sensed that my time was up, and I had made no headway in trying to convince him to stay. Biting the inside of my lip, I tried not to dwell on my failures. The last time I'd felt this hopeless was the day I had put in my resignation at Joja Corp. There had been so many emotions in me that day, so much anguish and frustration that my life was stagnating, and so much fear that I was damaged forever, unable to find a use for myself in society. Strangely, handing in that resignation had probably been the best thing I'd ever done for myself. This time, the story was much different. I had one last shot to shift the course of failure I was hurtling down.

"Well, I guess I should leave now," I said and my voice cracked. I pulled my backpack around to my front and began to grope around inside of it, keeping my eyes trained somewhere vaguely between my bag and the ground. "I have something for you."

"You didn't have to, really." I didn't need to look at him to know that there was a blush painted across his cheeks.

"No," I said, voice strained from my mounting frustration as my fingers brushed over every other thing in my bag. "I do. I really do." I forced myself to breathe and focus. "Ah-ha." At last my fingers found it, and I tugged the thing out of my bag with one mighty yank.

My cheeks burned as I brandished the bouquet of flowers at him. "Here," I said gruffly and waved it in his face. "For you."

There was silence. His eyes widened, and his breathing seemed to stop altogether.

 _Oh great, I somehow managed to kill him_ , I thought miserably. Perhaps Sam had suggested these flowers as a prank. Perhaps Sam knew of some fatal allergy to flowers that Sebastian had. Perhaps I had been set up by the biggest asshole of all time. For a moment, I truly believed that Sam had gotten the better of me.

But then the expression I had mistaken for anaphylactic shock melted into a softness tinged with red. Sebastian looked, dare I say it, pleased. "I'll accept this. Thank you." He turned the flowers over in his hands, admiring them from another angle. "I didn't know you felt the same."

"Wh-what?" Suddenly I was back on high alert. What depth of trouble had Sam gotten me into?

He gazed at me curiously. "Maybe you don't know, but in the valley, this bouquet is a token that indicates when someone wants to enter a steady relationship with you."

Sweet relief dazed me as I silently cursed Sam one last time. He was one crafty asshole, though his heart _was_ in the right place. "Oh, yes, well, that is how I feel. That is what I want." I was surprised that the words felt right as I said them, despite how awkward they came out. Emboldened by the flush of his cheeks, I continued, a firmness bolstering my next statement. "Sebastian, I like you as more than a friend."

He smiled and it was as though his mask slipped off, revealing a pure, unadulterated joy. His dark eyes danced in the sunlight, twinkling with a liveliness that burned straight into my soul.

I took a deep breath and could not contain my own smile. "You," I continued, "are my favourite person, and if you move to the city, I'm leaving with you."

His eyes widened, though the flush still remained across his cheeks. "You'd go back to the place that's the backdrop for most of your nightmares?"

"Yes," I said softly, but firmly. "I would follow you wherever life takes you. I'm not sure if I could describe the kinship I feel with you, or the sense of belonging that you give me. I've been an outsider for so long, I didn't think I'd ever feel it. But then I got to know you, and I realized something." I swallowed, but allowed myself a grin as I took a few steps towards him, my eyes locked to his. "You are what feels like home. It's not the valley or the city, it's you."

"I-I think I know what you mean. I feel it for you, as well." He crossed what little distance remained between us, and I felt a cautious fluttering in my chest as we leaned closer into each other.

A flurry of footsteps against the dirt path cleaved the moment, and hastily, we broke apart, the both of us lightly panting for breath. Neither of us could tear our eyes away from the other, a last attempt to hold on to some shared secret.

"Finally," Sam hollered, a grin plastered across the bottom half of his face as he jogged into view. "Finally, I'm here." He noticed the bouquet clutched in Sebastian's hands as he came closer and his grin only grew. "Finally," he repeated, giving us a knowing glance.


	22. Chapter 22 - One Step Behind

"Just so we're clear," Sam said loudly, his eyes wide and wild, "you are _not_ moving away, right?" He raised an eyebrow and stared at Sebastian with a somewhat unfocused, unhinged look.

Sebastian and I looked at each other, an unspoken communication passing between us. "That's right," he said evenly, returning his gaze to Sam. I had already known his answer before he spoke it, but my chest felt so very full as he said it anyway. I allowed myself a small, happy sigh.

"Okay, good," Sam said, his relief nearly palpable. "We need to put in some dedicated practice time if we're going to even have a shot at securing this gig."

"Just a thought, but I think you need to include your actual drummer in these practices," I said, gesturing at the synth. "The drum machine on this is rad, but it's not the same as the real thing."

Sebastian nodded.

Sam sighed, a defeat slumping his shoulders. "You're right," he mumbled, worry creasing his brow. "It's been a workable stand-in while Abigail's been helping her dad out, but yeah, you're right. I think we should double – no, triple – our band practices." He turned to me, his expression thoughtful and passably apologetic. "You'll probably be too busy to make it to all of them, and they might be more productive without you."

"By all means, don't let my schedule dictate any of this. Feel free to practice as much as you'd like." I smiled brightly at Sebastian who suddenly had a very pinched expression. Sucker. "But I think you'd better figure out a schedule that works with Sebastian's work load."

"Oh, right," Sam said, blinking rapidly. "I always forget."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but I didn't miss the thankful smile he tossed my way.

"Anyway," I hopped down from my spot atop Sam's dresser, "I think you guys sound good. I'm looking forward to hearing you guys with a real drummer."

Sam nodded and chewed his lip. "Yeah, I think there are some things to tighten up, but we're getting there."

"For sure," I bobbed my head in agreeance. "So, are we dismissed?"

"Oh, yeah, totally." Sam waved at us absently, his mind already elsewhere. "I guess I'll see you guys at the fair tomorrow."

I glanced at Sebastian, who gave me a single, small nod. "Yes, we'll be there."

"Cool."

"We'll see ourselves out." I was already out of his room, lingering just long enough for Sebastian to extricate himself from behind the synth and join me.

As the front door shut behind us, his hand slipped into mine. It was a small step and a simple gesture, but my heart thumped erratically all the same. I had told Sebastian that we could take it slow – neither of us had much experience with being in a relationship – and so we had agreed to stick to whatever felt comfortable.

Sunset was arriving noticeably earlier and earlier with each passing day, and by the time we had walked from Sam's house to the northern edge of town, only the merest swaths of lavender-pink still bruised the sky. It was distinctly chillier now than when I had first left the house for Sam's and I pressed closer to Sebastian in an effort to make up for not bringing a jacket.

"Hey, so," Sebastian began as we started our trek up the mountain.

I squeezed his hand and waited for him to continue.

"Are you sure you're okay with Abigail coming to practice?" His brow furrowed and he traced a pattern onto the back of my hand with his thumb. A trickle of warmth sliced down my spine.

I nodded. "Yeah, it's fine." I cleared my throat. "I mean, I believe you when you say that you don't like her, at least not like _this_." I pressed my free hand to my chest, vaguely over my heart. "And I think you guys need to have her there. Remember, I'm the one that suggested it even." I gave him a reassuring smile.

He remained pensive, though some of the tension in his brow evaporated. "That's true. I just want you to tell me if you start to feel weird about it."

I hesitated. "I can't deny that I do feel a little bit weird about it, but," I rushed to say, "I can be cool with it. This is for Sam. And you don't have to tell me now, but I want to know more about your friendship with her, eventually."

He exhaled loudly through his nose. "Alright," he said, though concern continued to tinge his tone.

We were at his front door now and I stood awkwardly as I let go of his hand and he opened the door. It had been three days since we'd become official and we hadn't quite found our new rhythm. Before, it would have been obvious that now was my cue to leave and head back to my farm, but since Friday, things had been less clear in terms of our new daily routine. On Saturday we had hung out at Sam's and gone our separate ways afterwards, but on Sunday we had lounged by the lake and I had left for home alone after nearly falling asleep.

He stepped over the threshold and his expression softened as he looked back at me standing there with a furious blush. "You're welcome to hang out in my room. You can leave whenever you need to."

I nodded and followed after him, thankful that his family wasn't around to see us.

"How's work?" I asked, as we stepped into his room. He flicked on the lights and my eyes took in the space. I felt a comfort in the familiarity of it all – the posters, the books, the games, the whir of the computers as they booted up.

He shrugged. "Nothing really exciting has come up. I've got a client who wants a new reporting framework built, but he has to give me some more requirements before I can start."

"That's cool," I said and flopped onto his bed. "Man, sometimes I miss doing that kind of work; I miss having to think like that."

"You still have to think when you plot out how you're planting seeds and when you plan where things will go on your farm," he reasoned, and threw himself onto the bed as well. "My mom says your layout seems pretty reasonable." We stared up at the ceiling.

"You have a point," I said, rubbing my chin with my hand.

"And budgeting."

"That would be valid if I knew how to budget."

He snickered softly. "You don't give yourself enough credit. You must know how to do _some_ budgeting if you've managed to make it out here this long."

I shrugged. "It's surprising how little work I have to put into making the farm succeed in that sense. Though I may be inflating that success with money I make from mining and fishing."

"Regardless, you and the farm are a success. You should be proud."

"You're right. I should," I sighed. "It's just not in my character."

He nodded slowly, the friction of his hair against the blanket creating a quiet rustling. "That's valid. That's part of the reason why I like you."

He sounded so matter-of-fact. My pulse raced and my cheeks burned fiercely. I said nothing as I watched him push himself up into a seated position, a king in his own kingdom. He turned and looked at me, his lips turned upwards beneath a blush that rivalled my own.

"So," I cleared my throat, "was there anything in particular you wanted to do this evening? I'm okay with whatever. I can keep myself busy reading some of your comics if you've got something you want to do on your own."

He got off the bed and went over to his shelf. "We could watch a movie."

"Sure," I said and pushed myself up into a sitting position.

It took him no time at all to pick a movie and pop it into the DVD player hooked up to the TV at the foot of his bed, and I wondered if he had had this in mind for some time.

He kicked off his boots and sat at the top of his bed, lifting the edge of his covers. I stared at him, slightly agog as I realized what his posture implied. "Come here," he said, his voice soft, husky. His face grew redder and redder as I stared at him. Finally, I steadied my pulse enough to follow his lead.

I undid my laces and shucked off my sneakers. I hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and scrambling to join him. My senses were inflamed, hyper-aware of the closeness of our bodies as he pulled the blankets tighter over us. I barely even noticed that the movie had started until Sebastian's arm inexplicably wound its way around me.

I let myself lean into him, and I found myself fighting against the desires that kept cropping up in my mind. I resisted the urge to run my fingers over his jawline, to taste the softness of his lips. I wanted to crawl onto his lap and feel his cheek against mine as we breathed and melted into one. The sweet, torturous touch of his arm against my back made my body clench, and finally he spoke.

"You're tense," he murmured against my ear. "Relax. I promise not to distract you."

"You're already failing miserably at that," I hissed, unable to keep the dolor out of my voice.

He snickered but gave me a one-armed hug before his arm returned to his side. As much as it was easier to breathe now that his arm was no longer around me, every one of my physical urges screamed in rage. I had to respect his boundaries, no matter what the lonely hollowness within me demanded. Why hadn't I just gone with it? Would I ever be able to accept this intimacy as my new normal?

As my emotions simmered, I let myself become absorbed in the movie. Somewhere in the last quarter of it, I dozed off amidst the sounds of lasers and flashing lights.

Sebastian gently nudged me awake some time afterwards, and with a quick embrace, we set off for my farm.

Barely awake, I toddled back onto my property, half-hanging off of Sebastian's arm under the cover of midnight. The last thing I remembered before drifting back into slumber was the steady snoring of Dog, who was curled up beside my bed.

I should not have been as disappointed as I was to wake up the next morning in my own bed and not Sebastian's, but I was, even though I woke up wrapped in his hoodie. Burying my nose in it, I inhaled the scent of him. It was liberating being honest with myself about my feelings, but I had to keep myself in check. An untenable irritation suffused my actions as I went about my daily chores. The fair was today, and thankfully wasn't due to start until 9AM, which left me with three hours in which I could tackle the farm's daily upkeep and find some peace in the noise warring inside my head.

The routine of caring for my animals and crops sobered me some, and by the time 9 o'clock rolled around, I had become fully entrenched in the rhythm of farmwork.

Waving farewell to my cows – Wunnie and Toonie – and chickens, I rushed off towards town with Dog hot on my heels up until the edge of my property. He barked a cheerful good-bye and I cast him a smile.

Although I had been able to see activity in the town from my front porch, I was still shocked as I entered town by just how busy it was with all the tourists and carnies around. There was a life and freneticism permeating the air that was foreign and familiar.

As I entered the town square, I took in all the tents. There seemed to be mini-games set up and a separate both to get prizes. I took a peek at what I could win and promptly decided that I wanted to win everything. Some of last night's disgruntlement manifested as aggression and I realized that I was looking forward to trying my hand at the games.

I walked through, making mental notes for myself on strategies for the games I passed by. My neighbours smiled and gave knowing nods to me as I ran into them, and a sense of belonging settled itself in me. Looking around at the buildings behind the stalls and booths, I felt a sublime annoyance – so many people here, so many tourists, and yet none of them really knew or cared about the town. They'd be gone by 3pm today, whisked back to their homes in the city. It was clear to me that they were from the city – I could hear it in their comments, their affected ways of speaking. The town was quaint and beneath them, and a flash of shame seared my memory before dissipating into nothingness as I thought back to the smiles I had received today. I was of here, they accepted me. I had a loyalty to this place.

I stalked past them all, ignoring mayor Lewis's attempts to call me over, and longed for some free space to breathe and that acute sense of relief that came from finding friends in a crowd. At last, I found them – some space apart from the madding crowd and the one person who was able to set my planet back on its axis. With him was that asshole who styled himself as my friend, but I couldn't fault him too much. He had, after all, supported mine and Sebastian's relationship.

"Taking some time off from rehearsal?" I asked as I pulled in close to Sebastian and slipped my hand into his free one. With his occupied hand, he held a cigarette that looked freshly lit. He grimaced at my words, but gave my hand a quick squeeze.

Sam nodded, his face paler than usual. "Yeah, it's hard to hear ourselves with so many people here anyway. I can hear the carnival music from in my room." He glanced nervously around, his eyes darting back and forth.

Sebastian shuddered involuntarily. "So many people," he muttered.

"So much time away from rehearsal," Sam added quietly, his brow puckering momentarily. "Hey," he said, blinking suddenly as his eyes met mine, "this is your first fair, right?"

I nodded. "It is. For once, you are right."

He smirked and rolled his eyes. "Ha-ha, very funny."

"You should go and play some of the games," Sebastian said, and I appreciated the effort he put into trying to sound encouraging.

My brow furrowed and I gave him a searching look, but he merely shrugged as his face betrayed nothing.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me," he continued. "There's plenty for me and Sam to talk about that doesn't involve rehearsal. We'll just chill here."

"If you're sure," I said, chewing my bottom lip.

There was a firmness in the set of his jaw and my heart throbbed as his voice deliciously coated his next words with a dire finality. "I'm sure."

I breathed a light sigh of relief, thinking back to all of the mini-games I had seen. "Alright, then." I let go of his hand and cracked my knuckles. "It's time to kick all of these sorry losers' butts."

He smiled at me as I turned to leave, but not before I noticed his gaze slide briefly away from me. It wasn't until after I had waved at them and headed back into the thick of it that I realized that Abigail had been wandering around near us, some steps behind me.

I looked back over my shoulder at Sebastian, but his thoughts and gaze were far, far away.


	23. Chapter 23 - I'm With the Band

I awoke to the sound of knuckles being rapped against my door. The sound startled me, urging me to leap out of bed as my pulse throbbed in my veins. Cautiously, I went to answer the door, still clad in my pyjamas.

The light of the morning sun streamed in as I opened the door, and I winced at its sear. "Sam?" I groaned as I took in the smiling face before me.

"Hi," he began, blisteringly chipper for this time of day. "Guess what? We got the gig!" he beamed as I glowered back. "We're playing a show tonight, in Zuzu City! If you want a ride, meet us at the bus stop around 4:00 this afternoon to leave for the show." He paused, mustering up the last bit of excitement he had been holding back. "You better be there!"

I gave him a bleary-eyed glare, but he didn't seem to notice as he trotted off, happy as can be. As much as I wanted vengeance on Sam for waking me up earlier than usual, I was pleased that they had landed the gig. It had been a solid two weeks of rehearsals and practicing, and my time with Sebastian had been sporadic. But now, fall was coming to an end. The usual crispness of the air had an extra bite to it – a hint of the frosty cold still to come – and some mornings I was able to see a cloud of my breath when I exhaled. The sun was setting ever-earlier, and I found myself lounging with the fireplace lit on those evenings when Sebastian had rehearsal.

There was no question in my mind as to whether or not I would go to their show – of course I would. I was invested in this experimental noise rock band, and I wanted only to support them. That would, however, mean that I would be heading back to Zuzu City today, the thought of which induced a cold sweat to break out all over my body. Panic clobbered me as I wondered if I would run into anyone I knew at the gig tonight. I desperately hoped not, but memories of isolation plagued me. I remembered going to shows by myself, feeling strange about being alone in the crowds of people of whom I often recognized. No matter how big the city was, it was still a small world in certain circles.

Perhaps it was a good thing that this had been foisted upon me so suddenly – I hardly had time to build up a mountain of paranoia and fear about returning home. The beast that lay beside my heart purred in its slumber. It hadn't reared its head in some days and I had grown accustomed to its quietude – an illusion of peace.

Changing into my normal work clothes, I stepped outside to face the chill and tackle my chores.

My crop yields were exceptionally high this season, in part due to the repeated harvests of cranberries and leftover corn from the summer. I also had a plethora of grapes that I had decided to turn into wine, which was another income-booster. It was getting to the point where I had close to enough money for another expansion to my house, and so I had set my mind on achieving that next.

As I restocked the feed troughs in my barn and coop, I couldn't keep the nagging anxiety over tonight's concert far from my mind. Was I ready to go back to the city so soon after my last visit?

I took my time with my chores and errands, taking extra care to speak to and visit each of my animals. But even my chores ran out and so I was left with too much time on my hands and a head full of fear. Sebastian was in rehearsal right now, and I could only imagine how intense it would be today given the fact that they were performing in just a number of hours. This left me with nothing to do but fish and wait while a minor storm brewed in my chest.

By the time it was 4 o'clock in the afternoon, I had filled my inventory with fish and so I had to stop by my shipping bin before heading off to the bus stop. Feeling the pressure of time, I couldn't drag my feet as much as I wanted to, but even still, Sebastian gave me a raised eyebrow when I finally showed up. I felt his relief as I slid into place beside him.

Quite a number of the townsfolk were here already, waiting to get on the bus. I felt a twinge of surprise that blossomed into a pleasure. It was gratifying to see how many people supported Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail, in spite of the distance they all kept from them normally. It was some sort of unspoken rule that the three of them were friends, and when they were together, no one tried to insinuate themselves into their group.

"Hey, farmer. Thanks for coming," Sam said with a wide, toothy grin. He gestured at the bus behind him with a shaky hand. "Well, our gear's loaded already… Looks like everything's set."

"Are you nervous?" I asked, ignoring Sebastian's warning nudge and Abigail's poker face.

"Ye—I mean, no, no, of course not," Sam retorted with a click of his tongue. "I am so ready to go. This bus cannot get us there fast enough." His hands clenched into fists and I felt a flicker of remembrance. It hadn't really been that long since I had done the exact same action to calm my shaking hands as I had set off to meet everyone in the town. He continued, his voice traveling up in pitch, "Why? Do I seem nervous? Because I'm not, I'm really not."

"Oh, no, definitely not," I assured him. "But I do think that we should head off now so we aren't late."

"Right, sure," Sam said, his brow creasing. He turned to address all of the other townsfolk milling about. "Alright, everyone… let's get in the bus."

While the bus rumbled out of the valley and onto the highway, the air on board soon filled with chatter. People were excited to go to the city, and even I could not begrudge them this treat.

Most of our time on the bus passed with me and Sebastian discussing books and comics. Behind us, Abigail sat with her headphones on, enraptured by whatever she was listening to, and Sam sat in front of us, studying a crumpled piece of paper with his illegible scrawl across it. As the first signs of urbanity rolled into view, I felt my words catch in my throat. Sebastian didn't let on that he'd noticed, but he gave my hand a squeeze as I took a large, gulping breath.

"Easy," he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear, and he twisted such that we faced each other as much as possible. "It will be fine. We'll hardly have to deal with any of the people."

I nodded, letting my gaze drop to the floor and the beast ran a single claw along the edge of the void. I didn't want to think about Joja and grey cubicles; I didn't want to think about the times I had missed my bus and feared getting fired. I couldn't help but remember the empty, cold, furious gazes of my coworkers after I had arrived late for meetings. It wasn't until Sebastian lifted his hand and let it hover between us that my sludge of thoughts stopped trundling down its path of sorrow.

I looked up, misery still marking my face, and felt his hand cup my cheek with the lightest, gentlest of touches. In spite of itself, my heart began to beat in double time and I relished the warmth of his touch. His skin was against mine and I tried not to let that realization fill my head.

"I know it's not the most reassuring thing," he began, voice low, "but I'm here for you." His expression was solemn and the depths of his eyes showed me my own reflection.

"Oh," I breathed, "but Sebastian, that reassurance means the world to me." There was no premeditation as I leaned in closer, pulled forward by the silent scintillation of our gazes devouring each other. I could smell his last cigarette on him, and my stomach dropped as a lock of hair fell over his eye.

"Hey, hey," Sam's voice cut in as he peeped over the top of his seat in front of us, "we're like—oh," he stopped short.

We pulled apart and Sebastian's hand dropped to his side.

"Ha ha ha ha… sorry, not important," Sam rushed to say and ducked back down.

"Well, you'd better say it now," I spat, the threat of murder rolling off my tone.

Sebastian smirked, though his cheeks burned a very becoming shade of red.

Sam poked his head back up and rested his chin on the back of the seat. "I just wanted to say that we're less than half an hour away."

"You put a lot of faith in traffic."

He shrugged, flashing me a small smile. "I'm an optimist."

"No doubt."

He scratched the end of his nose. "So, if it's not too much of a hassle, I wanted to speak to just Sebastian and Abigail."

I raised one fairly unimpressed eyebrow. "So you'd like me to switch seats with her."

"Yeah," he said, his smile disintegrating into a frown of concern. "I hope that's okay."

I grimaced and shrugged. "It's fine," I said as I stood up and gestured to Abigail that we should switch spots. She nodded and we made the change without further fuss. I spent the rest of the bus ride in silence, watching the skyscrapers loom closer and closer until we were in their midst.

As the city shot up around me, the thrill of it seeped into my consciousness. Zuzu City – land of opportunity, land of vapid, soulless wonders. I could not ignore the part of me that longed to dwell in it and join the ranks of jaded office workers. And still, I knew I would not belong.

The bus rumbled into a part of town I was not familiar with, and I found my curiosity being piqued as we rolled to a stop.

As we filed off the bus, the thrum of cars rushing by hit me like a wall. There was so much sound, and the sheer mass of it startled me. The rest of the passengers strode past as I waited to help Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail unload their equipment.

Cables were laid on my arms and wrapped around my shoulders, and after arraying my merry band of noise rockers in a similar manner, we filed through the opening in the rickety wooden fence before us.

"Oh," I said as I realized what the venue was.

"Yeah, outdoors," Sam added to my thought, a sheepishness playing behind his words.

"It's some venue," Abigail muttered, and I wasn't sure if it was sarcasm or true enthusiasm that shaped her statement.

In short, the venue was a suitable mess – some sort of empty lot of grass beside an old brick building that was littered with refuse and carnage. I spotted discarded tires, old furniture boxes, rusted out appliances, and aluminum cans – all in disarray across the grass. It seemed strangely fitting given the noise rock that would be pumped out of the speakers shortly.

There was already a crowd around the stage, milling about, drinking beer and gabbing away. The din of their voices generated a healthy buzz. With the little time we had, we rushed to set the gear and equipment up.

As the last amp was plugged in, I slipped off to the back of the stage where Sebastian and Abigail already were, discussing something related to one of their songs, and Sam was peeping through the curtain, watching the crowd grow. He gulped audibly, the sound hollow and loud. "I'm starting to get really nervous." I could see that his smile was pained and his breaths came out much shallower than they should have been.

"You guys will do fine," I assured him. "And even if something goes wrong, it's not a big deal. Everyone from Pelican Town is here because they're a fan and support you no matter what."

He nodded woodenly. "Yeah, you're right." He paused as the emcee took to the stage and made a few general announcements. Finally he announced the band, and stepped off the stage.

"Okay, here we are," Sam whispered. "Wish me luck!"

"Pfft, you don't need luck," I said, but winked at him as he slid through the curtain with a mild look of horror plastered to his face. I gave Sebastian a light punch on the arm as he and Abigail filed by. Hopping onto the ground, I rushed off to find a spot near the front of the stage.

Standing between Sebastian and Abigail, Sam looked out at us with some bewilderment. The crowd was small enough that he didn't need a microphone, and that fact seemed to be playing with his mind as he looked out and began to speak. "Hi, everyone. We're from Pelican Town… Er…" I waved at him and he caught my eye. The smile I cast him seemed to give him strength. He took a deep breath and continued, his voice noticeably less wobbly. "And we're called 'The Pelicans'. Here we go!"

They launched into a song I recognized from one of the first practices I had attended. The bass kicked in against a steady rock beat as the synth wound its way in and they reached a plateau of harmony hidden behind the artifacts of noise. Abigail threw in some blast beats on her kick drum and the crowd whooped as the pace increased and a melodic tension broke down. Heads bobbed in accordance with the rhythm and bodies started to sway with the beat that thumped into the cores of our hearts. The first song melted into applause briefly before shooting straight into the next – a gritty wall of sound that highlighted Sebastian's virtuosic skill on the keyboard. We found respite in the third song's down-tempo, ballad-like intro, but the drums kicked back in and there was something playful about Sam's guitarwork. I realized with a pang of jealousy that the three of them had a certain chemistry when they played together, each of them playing off the others such that the only communication amongst themselves was silent and relegated to careful catchings of the eye.

Their set was seven songs long, though the time passed quickly making their set seem compressed, squeezed into a pocket of time wherein I had been holding my breath. It was startling to hear silence as their final song ended and I released a heavy breath before applauding.

"Woooh! That was great!" Emily gushed from somewhere behind me, for once sounding more earthbound than ethereal.

Leah nodded and clapped heartily. "Nice work, guys!"

"I really enjoyed that bass part," Shane added, raising his beer in salute.

Sam pretended to wipe sweat off his brow in relief and flashed us all a dazzling grin. "Thanks, everyone! But you should really be clapping for our friend here!" He pointed at me and I felt a rich, hot blush suffuse my body and I caught the subtle ripple of motion as the crowd collectively looked at me. "Without her help, we would've never decided what kind of music to make in the first place."

To my surprise, Penny turned to me, the glint of a question in her eyes. "So you're like an honourary member of the band, then?" If looks could kill, I probably would have been impaled on the sharpness of her gaze.

"Oh, w-well, not really, no," I stammered with a shrug. "I'm just kind of their manager, except I don't manage anything they do…" I trailed off as her expression cleared.

"Oh, okay, I was just wondering. Sam seems to think really highly of you." She lapsed into inquisitive thought.

I almost laughed in her face. "Well, he's a bit of an ass so I would take what he says with a grain of salt."

Penny blinked at me, her eyes widening as she did so. "Excuse me?"

I was saved by the sound of Sam's voice as he called out over the crowd. "Oh! And don't forget to pick up one of our demo cassettes on the way out. Only 10g!"

"I've gotta run," I muttered to Penny as I began to press through the crowd. They were slowly moving out, away from the stage, but that made my trek to the backstage area even harder as I pushed against the tide of bodies. It really was quite a good turn out and my heart sang at the signs of success.

Finally I was able to break free and climb the few steps up to the stage.

"Hey," Sebastian said as I stepped out from behind the curtains. "How did we sound from there?"

"Really good," I enthused.

He nodded, a subtle smile pulling at his lips. The desire to kiss him flooded my mind and I felt my face get hot from the embers of my guilty thoughts. Thankfully he was preoccupied with dismantling his synth, and so I kept to the side, holding onto whatever wires and cables he handed to me.

"Oh, hey," Sam said as he was heading off the stage. His guitar was still strapped to him, though he had swung it around so it rested against his back. "That went well! Thanks again for coming with us."

My head bobbed as I offered him a smile. "You're welcome. I really enjoyed hearing you guys play."

"Sebastian," Abigail called from behind her drum kit, "could you help me with this?"

"Sure," he replied and made his way over to her.

I turned away, attempting to calm the inner turmoil that had begun to churn and roar as I saw him crouch down beside her.

"Hey," Sam said softly, bringing me back to reality, "you're not feeling good about their friendship, are you?"

I said nothing.

"It's okay," he said. "Just hear me out when I say it's alright. Sebastian has never talked about her the way he's talked about you."

Shame washed over me. Here I was being selfish and consumed by jealousy when I should have been supporting Sam in his moment of glory. "Thanks," I murmured.

Deeming this episode of drama to be over, Sam gave me a pat on the arm and left me. Though his reassurances had taken the edge off my feelings, a lingering sense of illness continued to thrive. Laden with cables to pack, I gave Abigail and Sebastian one last glance as I hopped off the stage and felt my heart drop into the maw of the beast.


	24. Chapter 24 - Truths Under Moonlight

"I'll see you tomorrow at the festival," he said, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. "I need to finish testing a deployment script I wrote and I think it'll take me most of the day."

I nodded, not saying anything.

"And thanks again for the sashimi. It was delicious." A blush settled on his cheeks, accompanied by a small smile.

"You're welcome," I replied. "It's quite simple to make as long as I have fish."

He shrugged, his smile refusing to dissipate. "I don't think I'd be able to do it. I just really appreciate you making it for me."

I raised an eyebrow, but couldn't commit to holding back my smile. "Making it for _you_? Now why do you think I made it for you and didn't just happen to make a bunch for myself and give you my leftovers?"

His smile lapsed into startled shock for a moment before he chuckled. "You are wicked," he said with a click of his tongue.

"That's what I aim for," I said with a wink and we bid each other goodnight.

The next morning dawned crisp and grey. Knowing full well that Sebastian would be unavailable during the day, I spent my time farming and fishing until nightfall. Sunset was creeping earlier and earlier every day, and I was surprised to find that darkness had fallen just after 6 o'clock. Pushing back into my house, I tried to rub warmth into my arms. I had worn a jacket over my t-shirt, but it was clear that sweater weather was nearly upon us. Curling up in front of my fireplace, I flipped through one of the comic books Sebastian had lent me.

When 10:00pm finally rolled around, I pulled myself to my feet and headed back out into the cold.

Nodding at Jas and Marnie, I continued past them into the heart of the town square where Pierre had set up shop and I could see a flurry of activity nearby. Hesitant, I stepped forward peering at the townsfolk in the light of the clouded moon, until one in particular caught my eye. _Sebastian_ – I made a beeline for him, waving absent greetings at whoever else I came across.

Dressed in his usual black, he blended in with the darkness surrounding us – like a shadow melting into night. His gaze was captured by a skeleton in the cage before him. My jaw dropped as I realized that the skeleton was moving without any strings or cables pulling its joints. Noticing my presence, the skeleton turned its empty eye sockets on me and I took a hesitant step forward.

Following the skeleton's empty gaze, Sebastian turned and a warm lopsided grin spread across his face. "Hey," he said, and my stomach did a somersault at the huskiness of his voice.

"Happy Spirit's Eve," I said, looping my arm through his. The movement felt more and more natural every time I did it, and I thought I felt a tension slip off him as he pulled me closer.

"Same to you," he said, and a giddiness lurked in his tone. "Did you get a chance to look around?"

I shook my head, my hair catching in a stray breeze and lifting lightly. "Not yet."

"You should. They do a pretty good job with this one. I'll let you explore, then," he said with a curt nod. "I don't want to take any of the magic out of it for you. It's the same every year, but the skeleton is my favourite part. I'll be right here when you're done."

"Okay," I nodded and slipped my arm from his. "I'll be back soon."

Just south of where I stood I could see four tables laden with food and spooky treats. I wasn't hungry and didn't feel like socializing with the folks there, so I wandered north, following the bounds of the hedges that circled the square. As I found myself just outside of town, I stopped, sensing that the hedges were just a little bit taller here. The area was usually so open, but now it was enclosed and I realized why. The townsfolk had built a maze for Spirit's Eve.

"They really went all out," I murmured, pressing my hand to the hedge on my right. I inched forward, noting the eerie glow of light emanating from two gargoyles just outside the hedge. This must be the starting point.

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and entered the maze.

I could see cobwebs stretched across branches up above, and deep crimson blood splatters on the ground. I was torn between wanting to find the end of the maze and exploring every path. Not knowing what to expect, I inched forward, keeping my guard up with every movement. By nature, I wasn't an easily frightened person, but a part of me was still wary of how the other townsfolk perceived me. I would not let them have any more opportunities to make fun of me for.

There was something eerie about how alone and isolated the darkness and hedges made me feel, but I could hear someone just up ahead. It was Maru, looking decidedly lost. We exchanged greetings and she eyed me surreptitiously before I took off and continued winding through the maze.

After what felt like 10 minutes, I knew that I was going nowhere in this first pocket of the maze. Having run into Maru and Harvey both multiple times, and occasionally spotting the same jack-o-lantern over and over again, it seemed that there was still much for me to explore, and this was the wrong part to be exploring. Backtracking carefully, I returned to the start of the maze and took a hard right.

I came upon a long straight stretch in which green, ghastly hands protruded from the ground. I crouched down to examine them, but could not discern how they were able to move. Their fingers wriggling and grasping in the cold night air did not seem to follow a pattern and a thread of fear slid through me. Being careful to avoid them, I continued on and caught sight of a dead end where Penny stood staring into a cauldron while a house on chicken legs loomed behind her. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had entered some sort of dream realm that wasn't quite real. The air was thick with magic, and it felt soft and cool on my tongue as I gulped it in.

Taking another turn, I found a TV sitting there, playing static and white noise. Feeling thoroughly unnerved, I scampered past, not daring to wonder how the TV was on while not being plugged into anything. Here, I heard more rustling and suddenly Alex came into view. He was pacing and very agitated.

Not wanting to intrude on his musings, I offered him a kindly smile before slipping by.

Before me, the maze opened up. I recognized the usual fountain that was here in the square north of town, and beside it a figure stood, curled in on itself, caught in the shadow of the fountain. I approached, careful not to make any sudden movements. The figure turned towards me at the sound of my footsteps. I froze and then my brow furrowed.

"Abigail?" I stepped closer. "Are you alright?"

"I can't go on… spiders…" she said softly, and I realized she was even paler than usual. I took in how white her knuckles were as she clenched her hands into tight, bloodless fists. This was terror in its purest form – weak, naked, and powerless. She stared ahead into the darkness.

I narrowed my eyes, and a thought occurred to me, budding at the base of my mind. "They're just spiders. They eat all of the bad things, like mosquitoes," I said with a shrug, struggling to remain calm and collected. "I'll walk with you."

"Are y-you sure?" she squeaked, and a blaze of jealousy flared in my chest at the shy breathiness in her voice. I was too rough to ever sound that cute, and I imagined all of the times she could have used that voice on Sebastian in the past.

"Oh, I'm sure," I said firmly. "Come." I grabbed her hand and felt her ice-cold fist unravel against my fingers.

She trembled beside me as we plunged into the black. With the hedges all around us, the sounds of the fountain died away, leaving behind just the whispers of breath entering and exiting our lungs. I was about to turn a corner when she held back and clasped my hand even tighter.

"D-don't," she stammered. "It's right around the corner. The big spider."

"Maybe it's moved. Maybe someone's moved it."

"No," she shook her head, a stream of moonlight catching in her purple hair. "It's like this every year. And every year I can't do it."

"Okay, well," I extricated myself from her grasp, "let me go ahead and scout it out. We can go by it together or something. Maybe you can close your eyes. Or I can stand in front so I'm blocking your view."

Her hands flew back onto my arm and I could feel their coldness through my sleeve. "Don't go," she pleaded.

"I'll call to you when it's fine to come ahead." I pried her fingers off my arm and continued forward, letting the ghost of a smile flutter past my face.

In the dim light, I saw it, the big spider ahead of me. It looked very not-real, and I felt a sudden pity for Abigail. This arachnophobia must have strong, insidious roots sunk deep within her.

I held my hand out, letting my fingers trail against the hedge, wondering vaguely if the rustling sound unsettled her. As I stepped closer to the big, fake spider, I looked around, squinting and straining to find what I was looking for.

"Ah-ha," I muttered as I crouched down and found one. "Hello, sweetling," I cooed, holding my hand out, palm up.

The spider crawled onto my hand.

It was a small thing, about the size of my thumbnail, and it seemed frightened by my movements as I pushed up out of my crouch, its small legs skittering about on my palm.

For a moment, my head rushed with the possibilities and power at my fingertips. I hesitated, tempted to put the spider back down on the ground, but then Abigail called out. "Are you still there? Are you okay?"

How many other people had seen her like this? How many other people had found it endearing?

"I'm fine," I called back. "I'm coming back for you." I inched my way back to the point where I had left her. I could hear her breathing, ragged and quick, just on the other side of the corner. Cupping my hands together behind my back, spider tucked between them, I said, "Okay, Abigail, it's safe. It's just a fakey fake spider that isn't real and isn't going to hurt you. I'm right around the corner, blocking the way, but if you want to close your eyes, I can guide you past."

There was silence save for her uneven breathing. "Okay," she said finally, and stepped out from around the corner.

Her eyes were squeezed shut and her hands reached out in front of her. I ducked out of the way just long enough to release the spider onto her arm.

Her hands found my elbow and I slowly walked forward, dragging her along behind me. It took almost an entire minute for us to reach the big spider, and by then, the little one on her had made its way into her hair.

"We're almost through," I whispered. "Just a few more steps."

We turned to walk around the thing, and a breeze rustled the hedge. She reached out to steady herself, and I saw the spider scuttle down her outstretched arm. Abigail froze as she processed the sensation sliding down her arm. "Is… is that… oh no."

I had no time to react as she opened her eyes and let out a blood-curdling scream.

"Get it off me, get it off right now!" she yelped, and shook her arm like she wanted to rid herself of it entirely.

"Hold still," I said, and seized her upper arm, just barely keeping it still long enough to grab the spider and toss it into the hedge.

Sobbing loudly, she wrenched her arm free and screamed again as the took in the big, fake spider. Without another glance, she turned and crashed through the hedges, back towards the start.

"Abigail," I called, and followed her through the route she had forged through the foliage. I stumbled out into a crowd of townsfolk: Jas, Marnie, Marlon, Haley, Shane, and Sebastian. They surrounded Abigail as she sobbed into her hands.

"What happened?" Marnie asked.

"It was nothing," I explained, but Abigail glared at me through her tears. "Abigail," I said, addressing her directly, "it was a small one. It was probably more scared of you than you were of it," I reasoned, looking around at the confused faces. "Mine was much less scary than the big one."

" _You_ did this?" she cried. " _You_ put the spider on me?"

"I – no, I didn't realize how much—"

"Oh, really?" she seethed. "I think you did. You knew how scared I was."

"I'm sorry," I murmured , the beginnings of tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. "I didn't realize."

Without another word, she fled, pushing through the crowd back towards town. I thought I heard the front door of Pierre's shop slam shut.

I stood there, not moving, letting the tears cascade down my cheeks. Slowly the crowd dissipated until it was just me and Sebastian standing there at the entrance of the maze.

"What happened?" he asked, voice hard and tired.

"I... I..." I was at a loss for words, the sounds getting caught in my throat.

"What did you do?" There was a sadness in his question. "What were you and Abigail talking about?"

I swallowed down the dryness in my throat. "I scared her. In the maze," I explained.

He gave me a searching look.

"A spider," I added quietly.

He looked away, running his hands through his thick, dark hair. A heavy sigh streamed out of him, and shame wrapped itself over my shoulders.

"Why?" he asked, finally returning his gaze to me. A wan, weary disappointment settled itself on his face.

I fidgeted, my fingers twisting against each other. "I'm sorry, I hope she knows I'm sorry."

He looked at me hard, his expression unreadable and there was a ferocity flickering within him. "Why did you scare her?"

As I took him in, I felt my heart sink. I couldn't avoid answering him. He deserved better than that. The words ripped out of me like a torrent of water shattering a dam. "I was jealous."

He sucked in a breath that he released in a puff. "You're jealous of her," he echoed, examining the words and the truth behind them – raw and gritty and wrathful.

It wasn't a question, but it urged me to respond nonetheless. "I'm jealous of your relationship with her."

"I'm not _in_ a relationship with her," he stated flatly. "I am in a relationship with _you_."

"Then what about the looks I see you give her? What about that camaraderie you two have? You won't tell me what history you guys have, and so I have to guess and my guess is all jealousy and spite and anger and—"

"Let me tell you, then," he said through gritted teeth, cutting off the trailing end of my thought. I saw the muscles in his jaw pull and strain, but he was able to retain composure as the words poured out of him in a defeated rush. "Once upon a time, yeah, I did have a crush on Abigail." His shoulders sank with his admission, and some of his anger seemed to slip away. "Growing up here, there weren't a lot of other kids, and she was someone who actually talked to me and showed me some kindness. She didn't make fun of me for not having my real dad around, and she was okay with exploring the caves and playing the types of games the other kids didn't want to play."

Another sigh escaped him, but this one seemed to exhaust him more than relieve him. "So yeah," he continued, "we have a history, I can't deny that and with you, I wouldn't want to." His dark gaze cut into me and for a moment the world around us fell away. "But when we reached that teenager phase, she started getting into darker stuff – rituals and habits that I didn't want to be a part of. She's always kind of lived on the edge and embraced it. Me – I wanted to be normal, I wanted to be accepted. I never even told her that I liked her, and I honestly don't think she ever liked me back," he shrugged. "As time went on, we drifted apart. I liked to stay inside and do stuff on my computer, and she was always itching to go outside. There just came a point when I started telling her no whenever she asked me to go out."

He stopped and studied me. Most of my tears had dried now, and my breathing was more even. His expression softened as my breathing hitched and I gulped down a large breath. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. It's just – it's kind of embarrassing now to think about it. I think you know me, and you know my habits and what makes me comfortable. I could never get that with her, and she never did quite understand me." He looked away and I thought he blushed just a slight shade of red. "It's just – I like you, and I need you to know that I do. I can't go back and undo my friendship with Abigail, though, and I swear that all is she is to me is an old friend. I still care about her, but there's nothing romantic about it." His face flushed darker as he reached forward and fumbled as he grasped my hands in his. "You understand me better than she ever did."

I nodded slowly and a relieved smile flashed across his face.

"Sebastian," I began, "I just feel so awful now for scaring her."

"Hey, don't worry about it. We can make this right really easily."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he nodded, and began to walk towards her house where she'd fled, pulling me along behind him. "You know, when she hears why you did it, she's just going to laugh like crazy."

I pressed tight against him as we reached her front door. "Are you sure? Will she forgive me?"

"I'm positive," he said, and gave my hand a squeeze as we knocked and went inside.


	25. Chapter 25 - Confrontation & Confession

Darkness greeted us with quiet warmth, enfolding us in a loose embrace, as we entered Pierre's shop. I hadn't realized how cold it was outside until nighttime's frosty touch was melted by the heat inside. I rubbed my hands together as I pressed closer to Sebastian. I would have to start wearing gloves soon. I was admittedly somewhat excited for my first winter in the valley. Back in Zuzu City, snow during winter was never a guarantee. Most years saw snow towards the end of the season, and even then, it only lasted for a couple weeks at most. Not being used to snow, the city came to a standstill as soon as the snow was thick enough to coat the ground. Somehow I doubted that the reaction to snow in the valley was very similar.

My eyes adjusted quickly to the black as the door shut behind us, and a cloud shifted, allowing a moonbeam to pierce a window that, like most of the windows here, had its curtains pushed aside. The inside of the shop illuminated with a pale, silvery light that cast a ghastliness over everything. It was fitting given this was Spirit's Eve, and accompanying the scene was an unsettling quality. With a strangely provocative certainty, Sebastian stepped forward, past the shelves, to the back corner of the store. I followed him, knowing from a single previous experience where he was going. Dread filled me with every subsequent step and I tried to keep my mind focused on keeping my footfalls inaudible. It didn't matter how much I wanted to hide, though. There was no point in lying to myself – this was going to be an uncomfortable and awkward meeting.

He rapped his knuckles on the door in front of him, but there was no reply or indication that he had been heard. Without a hint of hesitation, he turned the knob and entered Abigail's family's living area. Steeling myself with a moment of silence, I slinked in behind him.

I'd been in here once or twice before, having delivered randomly requested items to Abigail, her mother, and father. In the dusky shadows, the place looked a lot less warm and inviting. The air was still and the only sound – a medley of chiptunes and 8-bit sound effects – came from the closed door straight ahead of us. Though I didn't recall seeing Caroline out participating in the Spirit's Eve festivities, I had no doubt that the only one home right now was Abigail given how quiet it was here.

With practiced precision, Sebastian made a beeline for the closed door of Abigail's bedroom, and I couldn't help but feel a spear of jealousy at his confidence. The one major thing that Abigail had over me was all of the time she had had to build up a rapport with Sebastian. Time was a dimension that I had no control over.

 _Don't be silly_ , I reminded myself, _he said that he's only ever been just friends with Abigail_. Even though Sebastian had explained their friendship to me, only time would tell whether or not I would be able to rise above the wave of envy lurking just at the edge of my consciousness.

His mouth was set in a grimace as he knocked on the door to her room. "Abigail," he called, and I had a vision of him having done this in the past a few too many times for his liking, "it's me. Open up." His shoulders lifted as he sucked in a breath and we waited. The resultant exhale bordered on the edge of a growl or grunt of displeasure, and I knew that beyond my anxiety, a part of me was pleased that Abigail incited some negative feelings in him.

We continued to wait in the darkness, the sounds from behind the door becoming rhythmic and cyclical. A pool of moonlight lay just to the right of where I stood, and I stepped into it just as the door opened a crack.

I looked up and caught her eye. There was no friendliness glinting there now.

"What do you want?" she snarled at Sebastian. A weariness edged her tone, and as her eyes took me in, they narrowed. "What are _you_ doing here?" she asked, though her tone now was more pained than angry.

"A certain someone came to apologize," Sebastian stated, taking a step closer. I caught the twitch of his hand that indicated for me to do the same and I obliged. I saw him tuck the toe of his boot into the crack between the door and its frame. "And before you shut the door on our faces, I just want to say that I really think you need to hear this."

The door opened an inch further. "An apology," she said with heavy deliberation, "is that all?"

"Abigail," he warned, and his frustration was obvious despite his efforts to contain it.

She stared at him, her eyebrows forming a severe vee. "Okay, fine," she huffed, and stepped back as she pulled the door open.

Sebastian cast a reassuring look back at me as he entered and I followed after him. I had never been in Abigail's room before, never having made the effort to get to know her beyond the aloof, purple-haired persona she presented at the town events. All of my interactions with her had been conducted through a haze of caution and resentment, and I was pleasantly surprised now to find that her room was not so dissimilar to mine back when I had lived at home with my parents. Sure, her room was bigger and she had an aquatic-themed wallpaper plastered into it, but her shelves were stuffed with books and knick-knacks that revealed some common interests. As we walked past her computer desk and entered the main area of the room, I realized that she must have been in the middle of a video game when we had interrupted her. Taking a precursory look at the screen, I realized with a start that I recognized the game she was playing.

Sebastian nudged me as Abigail stood before us, arms crossed over her chest. Her blue eyes were still narrowed, but most of the tension in her stance had left and her body sagged against the stiffness she tried to force into it.

I cleared my throat and felt my insides clench. "Abigail," I began, and I looked quickly at Sebastian. He tilted his chin expectantly and I forced myself to continue with an audible gulp, "I'm sorry for scaring you in the maze." I paused, overwhelmed by the heady rush of adrenaline that had kicked in. Fear gripped my heart, my lungs, my insides as I looked into Abigail's steady gaze. Sebastian leaned closer to me and placed his hand at the small of my back and somewhere in my subconscious, a voice cloaked in Sebastian's calming timbre reminded me to breathe. I took another breath. "It was mean of me to do that, and I hope you can forgive me. Maybe not today, maybe not soon, but someday." I sighed, the burden of guilt still weighing on me. I became very aware of my pulse. "I know you're deathly afraid of spiders and I wish I hadn't taken that information and hurt you with it."

She nodded slowly and I heard her release a breath. Her expression did not change.

Now came the hard part. My throat constricted and I felt my hands begin to shake. Digging my fingernails into my palms, I choked out my next words, "But I have to own up to why I did it."

She eyed me with a shot of suspicion, but gestured for me to continue.

I looked at Sebastian again, and he offered a smile. Though it was a small one, it was enough.

Drawing myself up to my full height, I spoke, "I have a confession to make, Abigail," I paused as she raised one nicely-shaped eyebrow. I took a deep breath and pressed my nails farther into my palms. "I was jealous of you."

Both of her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped. "What?"

"Yeah," I continued, as a growing fire consumed my face. "I thought that Sebastian was in love with you."

"Wait," she said, her expression changing, "you thought Sebastian was in love with _me_?"

I nodded. "I thought maybe you guys used to date and there were lingering feelings or something – I don't know, you two just seem so close, close in a way that's different from his friendship with Sam." My words died as she pressed a hand to her mouth.

Her eyes narrowed again, but this time there was mirth in the lines of her shoulders, a tension relieved of its tightness. Puzzled, I watched her struggle to compose herself. From behind her hand, the corners of her mouth quirked up, and she began to snicker.

"Oh gods," she chuckled, "I don't mean to laugh, but it's just so funny." Her hand dropped and a grin cracked her face. "I mean, yeah, we're good friends, we have inside jokes, and I know I can rely on him, but he's not exactly my type."

I stared at her as Sebastian nudged me reassuringly. "Told you she'd laugh," he said.

"So you don't like Sebastian in that way?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful or accusatory.

She shook her head vigorously, her violet locks swishing about her face. "He's a great friend and probably a good boyfriend, but he's too much of a homebody for me – no offense, Sebastian."

"None taken."

She nodded. "I want to go on adventures and fight monsters. There's an entire world of people out there, none of whom I've met yet, and some of them probably love adventuring as much as I do. Sometimes I feel like I can't stand to be still. I don't want to sit around inside unless it's to play a video game, and even then—" She made a face.

"But you have so many books," I said with a frown. "You have a ton of choices for what you can do inside."

She shrugged, her lips forming a pink curl of apathy. "I haven't read most of these. A lot of them were gifts. If I do reading these days, it's mostly about swordplay techniques or mysticism stuff, and _that_ I can do online."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Oh," I said, drawing the syllable out as I glanced from him to her, "well, it seems I was jealous about nothing, then."

She giggled. "Oh, I can't believe you were jealous. That's why you've been so distant, and I guess that does explain the whole spider thing." She smirked and sent a curious gaze my way. "I mean, I guess I might've done something similar if it was me feeling jealous."

"That's a relief," I said with a small laugh.

"And don't worry," Abigail added with a bright smile, "Sebastian really likes you. We don't talk all that much anymore actually since he, like, never goes outside," she arched an eyebrow at him, "but when we do, he always talks about you."

I turned to give him a swift, piercing glance, but he refused to make eye contact and let out a small sigh. His face was growing redder and redder by the second.

Returning my gaze to her, I said, "Well, thank you. That's really sweet to hear." I cast Sebastian one last questioning look, but he continued to redden and avoid eye contact. "Anyway, it's getting late and we should let you get some rest."

Her head bobbed and she raised an arm to guide us towards her room door. "I'm most at peace during the night hours, but okay, I'm sure you're both tired," she paused, "and thank you for telling me. It must not have been easy, but I appreciate it. I feel like I know you a lot better now."

I nodded. "Again, I'm sorry. It was such a stupid thing for me to do."

Waving a hand absently, she followed us out of her room into the living room, and out into the storefront. "I get it now. Don't worry about it, you just might have to be careful about what sorts of fears you mention around me, though. I like a good prank war." She winked and I balked. "And you know, if you ever want to come play video games, you're welcome to."

An invisible weight seemed to lift off my chest, and I took an easy breath. "Thanks, Abigail."

"Have a good night, you two," she said as she opened the front door for us. In the moonlight, I could see the puffiness of fatigue in her face. I had made her cry, and nothing could take that act back. Her eyes glittered nonetheless, and somehow I felt guiltier than when I had first arrived at her doorstep.

"Goodnight," we murmured in a unified reply, and stepped outside into the cold.


	26. Chapter 26 - Winter Musings

Unlike the rest of my fellow townsfolk, I kept my curtains drawn. Even now, as I approached the one-year mark of my move out to the valley, I couldn't make myself comfortable with the idea of having the curtains flung aside and my windows exposed. As I lay in bed the next morning, I wondered what other differences marked me for what I was – city slicker, urbanite, ex-software developer.

Dragging myself out of bed, I stumbled over to my bedroom window and pulled the curtains open. A pale, tepid light streamed in and over me, drowning what fatigue remained in me. Not quite understanding the sight before me, I gaped.

The world outside was draped in white. Small flakes of snow filtered down, twirling in the wind. My entire field was covered, and as I squinted out at where my crops had been, I realized that they had all died in the frost of last night. I shook my head, thankful that I hadn't planted anything new yesterday.

Folding myself into warm clothes, I hurried to the front door and threw myself outside. My breath caught as I took in the snow-capped trees, the little pillars of powder atop each fence post. I looked out towards town and reveled in the fact that no one had cleared a path through the snow yet and so from here straight through to town, the snow lay pure and untouched. It truly was a winter wonderland. My boots crunched as they sank into the fresh snow, and as I tilted my head back to watch the flakes flutter down, a particularly large one landed in my eye.

"Gee," I muttered, but even that errant snowflake couldn't quell my mood.

With a clack of his claws against the front porch, Dog scrambled out of the house and barked as he stumbled into the snow. I saw his gaze go cross-eyed as he watched a flake land on his black button nose. A laugh tore out of me and I spun in a circle, relishing the cold that snapped at my clothes and skin.

Without crops to tend to, I was left with an unforeseen conundrum: what was I going to do with all of my free time? The obvious answer was to get on with the rest of my chores, so I shut the front door behind me and made my way to the barn and coop.

"It's too cold to go outside," I said as I took in the plaintive stares of my chickens. One clucked rather disparagingly, but I could only offer a shrug as I left the coop without opening the door to the yard.

My land felt new again as I looked out at the endless white. I had become so familiar with every nook and cranny of it, but now, the snowscape offered up a new environment that demanded exploration.

As I plodded through the snow, I let my thoughts wander.

I had been out here for almost a full year now, and in retrospect, it had been a year of ups and downs.

"More ups than downs, though," I said aloud, thinking of a particular dark-eyed gaze.

Stepping past the rundown greenhouse, I squeezed between two pine trees and came upon a familiar sight: Grandpa's shrine.

It had been weeks since I had visited it, and I dug into my jeans pocket now to pull out the note that I had managed to always keep with me. The paper was soft and worn, its texture akin to silk. Mom and I had first found the note when we'd first scoped out the land before I had moved in. Neither of us had known who had left it there for grandpa, but we had both recognized his handwriting.

I didn't need to look at the note to remember what it said.

Stuffing the note back into my pocket, I dropped to my knees and slid my backpack off my shoulders. It fell unceremoniously into the snow with a soft _whump_.

For a moment, I just knelt there, looking up at the shrine. There was an undeniable aura of peace emanating from it, undercut by an unmistakable sense of being watched.

I rummaged around in my backpack until my fingers slipped against the thing I had stowed in here weeks ago. Being careful not to damage it, I took the fairy rose out of the shelter of my bag and placed it on the altar. The fairy rose – grandpa's favourite flower. As I got to my feet, I remembered the autumnal nights, ripe with the heady scent of harvest, when I would be out here visiting grandpa and he would tell me stories about fairies and elves, junimos and sprites.

"Some fairies are especially concerned with farming," he had said with a stroke of his beard, and then proceeded to tell me one of his many bedtime stories. Fairy roses were supposed to bring fairies, lure them, and tempt them into our world. I had never seen one myself, but the one year grandpa had grown a giant pumpkin, he had claimed it had been a fairy who was responsible.

As I looked down at the fairy rose I had lain down, a sob choked my throat and I bit my lower lip.

"I miss you, grandpa," I whispered, my voice cracking on the last syllable. A single tear slid its way down my cheek. It was probably a trick of the mind, but I could have sworn that the fairy rose had waved a leaf at me. "I'll do you proud, gramps," I murmured and turned away.

Swiping at the rest of the tears threatening to fall, I took a deep breath.

That was the worst part about winter – it was the season when I had lost my grandpa. The loss of him filled my lungs as I sucked in my next breath, and it was there in the heaviness of my boots as they sank in the snow.

I thought that I had moved on, but maybe it was never really possible to move on from the death of a loved one. It was clear that moping was not the way to go about honouring my grandpa's memory. Turning my back on the altar, I bit my trembling lip. The best thing I could do to honour him would be to live a full life.

 _How hard can that be?_ I asked myself dryly.

It was late enough in the day now that Sebastian would be up, and, I realized, it wouldn't be a bad idea to hit the mines for some ore afterwards. With my mind still full of thoughts, I took the mountain path away from my farm.

* * *

"Hi, Robin," I said as I entered the shop.

She waved in greeting and flashed me a warm smile. "Enjoying the snow?"

I was startled out of my thoughts. "Y-yes, I am, actually."

"I'm somehow not surprised." She leaned forward on the counter, her elbows resting on the wood. "I'm guessing you're here to see Sebastian?"

Nodding, I couldn't hide the burn in my cheeks.  
Her smile widened. "You know where he is."

I nodded again as I turned and went down the hall.

With a light sigh, I pushed open the door to his room. "Hey," I breathed, my gaze locking on the dark figure seated in a corner, behind the computers.

"Hi," he replied, looking up from his computer screen with a slight blush. I could see that he was grinning.

"Aww, look at you. You're actually grinning," I teased, as I slipped off my jacket and took another step further into the room. "Now why's that?"

"Why am I grinning?" he echoed, but his smile only deepened. "I guess I've been unusually happy lately." He quirked an eyebrow at me. "I could ask the same of you, actually."

I couldn't contain myself. "It's snowing," I said, trying to be nonchalant, but failing miserably.

He nodded. "Yeah, it's finally nice and cold."

"Agreed."

Raising an eyebrow he pushed himself up out of his chair. "You like the cold?" He stretched and let out a yawn.

"I mean, I don't mind it. It's way better to be too cold than too hot, plus it's _snowing_ , Sebastian. It's _snowing_."

A chuckle escaped him as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Doesn't it snow in the city?"

"Yeah, it does, but not like _this_." I crossed the distance between us and slipped my arms around him, vaguely surprised by my own boldness. "It always gets really gross and dirty in the city. The snow here is so pristine."

"Oh believe me, it will get gross and dirty here, too. But I see what you mean. There are some parts here that will stay clean where people don't go." His arms wound around me in return and we embraced, his chin resting against my forehead. "Most people get sick of the snow really quickly."

I breathed a sigh as we pulled out of our embrace. "Well, not me. I love the stuff."

"So you say now." With a smirk he leaned closer and his lips – light and feather soft – pressed for a moment against my forehead.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, the act had caught me off guard. "S-sure," I stammered.

He snickered and his fingers caught mine as he returned to his chair, tugging me along after him. "So I guess you're over here because you don't have any seeds to plant."

I shook my head vigorously, a poor attempt to hide my reddening face. "No seeds, no plants, no crops," I shrugged, "But it's alright. There's still plenty I can do to make money." I paused, catching a breath. "So how is your stuff going? I know we just saw each other yesterday, but, well..." I trailed off, my thoughts returning to Abigail and the guilt still bubbling in the pit of my stomach.

He chewed the inside of his lip as he thought, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. "Well, I've picked up another contract. I can't say too much about what I'm working on, but it's a dashboard of sorts."

I nodded as I lowered myself into his other computer chair, our hands still joined in the space between us. "That's cool."

Silence threaded between us for a moment and I thought he might have gotten distracted until he took an audible breath. "And I don't think I've mentioned it to you, but I've started reading a book about a farmer." It was his turn to flush now. "It reminded me of you, actually." He cleared his throat. "I thought it'd be neat to learn more about what you do."

I stared at him, but managed to catch myself before it became too rude. "I—oh wow, I'm touched, really," I sputtered. "It's not even that interesting," I said with a small laugh.

He shrugged and our hands broke apart as he began to type on his keyboard. "It's interesting to me. I want to know more about your world, since you already know about mine. And I don't know, maybe one day I could help you – you know, if you needed it." He stopped typing suddenly and turned his monitor towards me. "Look, I've even started a spreadsheet of chores and tasks. I've got your animals on here and I have some formulas set up to calculate your monthly profit based on production."

I was speechless as I took in the spreadsheet of numbers before me. The data was accurate, and I couldn't help but be impressed by what he'd put together. Looking from the screen to him, my mouth hung open and I blinked rapidly. His expression was somewhere between shy and forced coolness, but his flushed cheeks gave him away.

"Sebastian," I managed with some difficulty, "you put a lot of thought into all of this. Do you – have you ever considered becoming a farmer?"

"Could you picture me living on a farm?" There was a haughtiness behind the question, a false indignation. I eyed him carefully, and it was under my steady gaze that his mask slipped and he faltered. He turned away as he spoke. "It seems ridiculous, but I _have_ been thinking about it lately."

"Well," I said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "I would fully support you if you did. I mean, it's not easy, and there's a lot you can't just learn from a book."

"I'm aware of that," he nodded stiffly. "I thought you'd be pleased."

My eyebrows shot up. "Don't get me wrong," I said, frowning. "I'm really excited that you're interested in farming. It means a lot to me that you've done all this research and planning and just _thinking_ about it. To me, it proves that you care about me and my life." I paused. "I'm just surprised, I guess."

"Well, don't be," he replied, and I sensed a flare of anger. But as quickly as it had come, it left, and his shoulders slumped. "I just," he began, but stumbled into silence.

"Hey," I said softly, and tried to catch his falling gaze. "It's fine. Like I said, I'm touched that you care so much. And I think it's really cool what you did with that spreadsheet. It'll be helpful for figuring out budgeting."

He nodded sullenly and opened his mouth. It took a moment before any words registered on his tongue. "I just need you to know how much you mean to me, and that I want to be a part of your world."

My heart throbbed in my chest and I had the sudden urge to fling my arms around his neck and kiss him. But we hadn't advanced beyond hugging, so I kept my hands to myself. I forced a smile as I bit the inside of my lip and, instinctively, my hands balled into fists. I had to respect his boundaries.

"Oh, Sebastian," I breathed, "you _are_ my world. Farming is just something I do. I could be doing something else, anything else, but that wouldn't change how you shape my life."

Tilting his chin to look up at me, he cast a shy glance my way. "I'm glad to hear it."

"And don't you forget it," I said happily.

He smiled in full. "Alright, I'll try."

I arched an eyebrow at him. "That'd better be a promise."

"Of course," he murmured, and his dark eyes brimmed with cautious fire as he sighed, "I should get back to work."

I bowed my head. "Sure," I said curtly. "And I've got some mining to do."


	27. Chapter 27 - Happy Birthday

"Are you sure you don't want to invite anyone else?" Sam asked. The edge of a whine trembled in his voice.

I nodded. "I'm absolutely sure."

"Alright, if you say so," he shrugged, but I heard the bite of disappointment.

I reached towards him, not quite letting my fingers brush his sleeve. "Hey, I see where you're coming from, and I know you just want to throw him a really great party, but I need you to trust me on this one."

He stared at me, his green gaze shiny with deflated acceptance. "Okay, fine."

Smiling, I dropped my hand and took a few steps back to survey our progress.

It was 1 o'clock in the afternoon, and we stood in the eastern part of the Stardrop Saloon. Dark blue streamers clung to the rafters and spiralled into sweeping arcs attached at every beam. A small silver banner read "Happy Birthday" in neat black print, and was pinned to the far wall, glinting in the saloon's dim light. A small pile of presents sat on the floor just beyond the pool table, and in every corner, a bunch of three or four balloons bobbed in the slight draft that came from the heating vents. Over the pool table we had draped a tablecloth that depicted a night sky dotted with sequin stars. The centerpiece was a toy motorcycle that we had asked Leah to paint blue—an homage to Sebastian's beloved steed. Silver and gold star confetti lay sprinkled across the tablecloth. All in all, the space looked transformed and ready for a party.

"Hey Gus, we're all done setting up," I said, sidling up to the bar.

With both hands, he worked a dirty rag around the rim of a very used beer stein. "Great," he nodded, his head bobbing with a lazy evenness.

"Thanks again for letting us come in early and decorate," I flashed him a smile. "Are you sure no one will be bothered that we've taken that section over?"

"Oh, I'm sure," he waved his hand holding the rag at me. "Only you kids ever use that area, anyway."

Sam shuffled forward, hands in his pockets. "Yeah, I guess that's true. Thanks again."

"You're welcome," Gus grinned and we waved at him as we headed out into the cold.

Pulling my coat close around myself, I turned to face Sam. "That's it for now. I'll see you back here in a couple hours."

He nodded, his jaw set. "I'll be here by 4 o'clock, I think."

"That's fine. I'll probably get here a little bit early, as long as that's okay by you."

"Yeah." He nodded once more, his eyebrows knitting together.

I gave him a pat on the shoulder. "It'll go well, I'm sure of it."

He grimaced, but said nothing as we parted ways.

With just less than two hours to kill, I headed back to my farm to change my clothes and gather the remaining supplies and presents. The snow still hadn't lost its splendour, but I hardly had time to enjoy its crispness as I sprinted home.

Shutting the front door behind me, I took a deep breath as I tore into my bedroom.

There was no getting around the fact that I didn't have any dresses, and so I pulled on my nicest black jeans, and dressiest shirt. Dark boots completed my look, and I had a flutter of remembrance of that day when I had used Rasmodius's mirror. My outfit may have been overkill in the black department, but this was my style. I had to bite my lip as I reminded myself of it.

My hair was getting far too long, but this was not the time to consider getting a hair cut, and so a hair clip had to suffice. I grabbed the delicate bow I had stowed in a chest by my dresser and clipped back some of the hair from my face. Not perfect by any means, but it would have to do.

Last but not least, I scurried to the chest I kept by the front door. Rummaging around in it, I managed to find the few last things I wanted to bring to the party. I placed them carefully into my backpack, trying not to think about how much heavier my bag would be.

Just before stepping back out into the cold, I gave Dog a pat on the head.

"I don't know when exactly I'll be back home, but I promise that I'm not abandoning you," I murmured.

He panted and slapped his tail against the floor.

Straightening up, I took one last look around. I didn't want to forget anything, but time was running out if I intended on getting to the saloon before Sebastian got there.

"Here we go," I whispered, and hurled myself outside.

* * *

The saloon had a few more patrons in it now than when I had been here earlier with Sam, and I offered a wave to each of the folks I saw. They returned the gesture with a knowing grin, and I was somewhat grateful that Gus had apprised them of the situation. Everyone knew Sebastian and everyone understood that this was his day. One of the perks of living in a small town, I conceded.

As I turned the corner into our little section of the saloon, I breathed a tiny sigh of relief when I saw that nothing had been disturbed since we had last been here.

I took off my backpack and quickly retrieved the items that we needed, and placed them on the covered pool table. Checking the time, I chucked my backpack under the pool table. I still had some time, but Sam and Abigail should be showing up soon. Unable to make myself settle down on one of the sofas, I began to pace.

Sebastian would be wondering why I hadn't visited him today, and my heart ached to think of how he might be feeling right now. Hopefully he wasn't hurt. Hopefully he would understand once he saw us here. Hopefully he had been caught up in his work all day and hadn't spared me a thought.

"Hey."

I looked up at the sound of the voice. Lost in my thoughts, it took a moment for my brain to register that it was Sam, not Sebastian. A second round of relief washed over me.

"Hey," I replied, halting my pacing rather suddenly.

Sam had actually tried to tame his hair with gel or water, and for a moment I was too shocked to react. As he stepped fully into view, Abigail came in behind him.

"Oh wow, you guys did a great job of decorating," she said, her eyes widening as she took it all in.

"Thanks," I replied, feeling myself blush. "I'm glad you're here and that you made it before Sebastian."

Abigail beamed at me as she came in closer. "Oh, about that," she paused.

I raised a curious eyebrow at her.

"Well," she giggled, "you know the route Sebastian takes to come into town, right?"

I nodded slowly.

"So, I went out and put some stones in his path."

I couldn't help but stare at her with some incredulity.

She continued, oblivious to my concern, "He's going to be so mad. It's going to slow him down, for sure."

"Huh," Sam said, rubbing his chin. "That might actually work. He's gonna have to smash those rocks or go another way or something."

"He's totally gonna smash the stones," Abigail said with a wink. "He's too stubborn to go another way."

Shaking my head slightly, I sighed against the backdrop of laughter. "Okay, well in any case, we should get into position."

It took all of maybe five minutes for the three of us to sort out a decent hiding spot, and with the passing of each second, my heart pounded in increasing anticipation. _What if he showed up right now?_ I asked myself every time we disagreed on hiding spots. But in the end, we settled on the three of us crouching behind the pool table—a compromise that resulted in none of us being happy.

Every time the door swung open and a new set of footsteps joined the cacophony of noise, I strained to hear Gus's voice. We had asked him to loudly give us a signal, but as time went on and we exchanged increasingly more anxious glances, we began to lose hope.

"What if he never comes?" Sam asked and my ears strained to just make out his words.

"He _has_ to come," Abigail stated, raising her voice above the whisper we had adopted.

"You guys," I began, but stopped as I heard Gus's voice boom in our general direction.

"Well," he said with an uncharacteristic amount of gusto, "hello, Sebastian! Come here."

I knew that Sebastian was now cautiously picking his way over to the bar. I knew that Gus was now offering Sebastian a beer, courtesy of the house. I also knew that Sebastian would then politely decline. Beside me, Sam stiffened and Abigail's eyes went wider than normal.

Familiar footsteps approached and the three of us got ready to spring into the air.

A telltale board in the floor squeaked as the footsteps stopped. I just barely made out the sudden intake of a breath. "What the—"

"Surprise," we cried in unison, the three of us leaping to our feet. "Happy birthday, Sebastian."

His mouth hung open as his lips worked to try and form words. A lank of hair, clumped with perspiration, hung over one eye, and in the other, I saw the remains of a searing anger dissipate as the situation unfurled before him.

We came out from behind the pool table, our arms laden with gifts.

"Are you surprised?" Sam asked, a grin lighting up his face.

Sebastian stopped gaping and nodded as he spoke. "Yes, definitely."

Sam and Abigail rushed forward to engulf him in a hug, and I mouthed a small "I'm sorry" as I took in his bewilderment.

He shook his head once and mustered a small smile. I felt like I could finally breathe again.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of food, laughter, and pool. After presenting Sebastian with a few small gifts—a chunk of obsidian, a frozen tear, and a void egg—we dug into the food I had prepared: pumpkin soup, sashimi, maki rolls, and pizza.

Sam and Abigail were more than fully able to carry on a conversation by themselves, and so we let them, chiming in whenever our input was requested. As much as Sebastian was enjoying the company of his friends, every time I caught his eye, his smile seemed to grow increasingly more exhausted. When dinner was done, the tablecloth came off and Sebastian and Sam got into their weekly pool match.

The familiarity and regularity of this routine eased the latent tension in Sebastian's shoulders, and as I saw him relax into the game, I let out a sigh and sank into the cushions of the couch.

"This turned out really well," Abigail said from her spot on the other couch.

I nodded. "Yeah, it couldn't have gone better, I think."

An easy silence settled on us, and I got caught up in watching the guys playing pool until Abigail spoke again.

"I'm glad he has you." Her azure-blue gaze was focused elsewhere, but as I shifted in my seat, her eyes flicked to me. "And I really appreciate that you included me in this."

I said nothing for a moment, caught off guard by her statement. Tucking my hands under my legs, I took in a deep breath. "Of course I'd include you. You're one of his friends, one of his oldest. If it wasn't for you, he probably wouldn't be the person that he is today."

She paused, her lips parting as if to protest, but all that came of the moment was a slight shrug.

Leaning forward, I let my line of sight rake the floor before sweeping up to take in her face. Her cheeks were flushed and once more, her gaze had returned to some other place. "Abigail," I began, voice low, "I just want to say thank you for being his friend for all these years."

"You're welcome," she said absently, the ghost of a smile playing about her lips. I wondered if she had been entirely truthful when she had told me that she had never returned Sebastian's crush on her.

While the guys played pool, I drifted from my seat on the couch to the arcade machines and back. Both required far more skill than I possessed, and not even with Abigail's help was I able to make much progress in either of them. When the clock struck 9 o'clock, the sound of pool balls clacking against each other stopped, and Sam and Sebastian sidled over to us.

"I think that's enough pool for tonight," Sam said, hands behind his head. A sheen of sweat shone against his skin.

"Good game?" I asked, rising to my feet.

"As good as always," Sebastian said with a tired smile.

"You have to open the rest of your presents," Abigail reminded him.

His smile evaporated. "Oh, right."

Dutifully, she went to the small pile of presents in the back corner and brought them out to him.

One by one, he unwrapped them, letting the loose wrapping paper fall to the floor with every tear. Abigail had gotten him a new computer game, and Sam had gotten him some new comics. The last gift was from me, and it was a motorcycle tune-up kit my dad had recommended. Sebastian's reactions were limned with fatigue, but a genuine happiness managed to shine through.

"Thank you, guys," he said once he held them all in his hands. Carefully he tucked the presents into the pocket-pouch of his hoodie.

"You're welcome," Abigail said with a giggle, and Sam nodded vigorously in agreement.

I sensed that he was nearing the end of his patience and so I linked my arm through his. "Alright, then I think it's time to head back out into the chilly night."

There were nods all around and murmured good-byes as people pulled on their jackets and joined the rest of the saloon's patrons filing out the door.

"Thanks again, Gus," I called as we left. "I'll be back tomorrow to clean up."

He waved. "Excellent. Have a very happy birthday, Sebastian."

Bowing his head briefly, Sebastian thanked him and we stepped out into the cold.

"I'll walk you home," I said firmly.

After the warmth and noise of inside, I was thankful for the silent, cold breeze nipping at my skin. Without needing to verbalize it, we basked in the quietude of the night. Time danced forward as we took our time walking through the snow. Much of it had been packed down and kicked out of the path, but what remained in our sight glittered in the milky light of the moon. My breath caught as Sebastian's house came into view and I felt my feet drag. Even though we hadn't said a word to each other, I was loathed to surrender his company.

As we reached the front door, our pace slowed to a stop and we turned to face each other.

In a movement as fluid as water, he reached out and our hands met, fingers entwining.

"I guess this is goodnight, then," I said, my breath forming a haze that drifted out and away.

He tugged me closer until I was able to feel the heat emanating from his body. "I suppose so." He cocked his head to one side and I felt that strange, familiar stab of desire in my chest as I waded into the darkness of his eyes. "You remembered my birthday," he said, and his tone belied a certain amount of awe. In spite of the fatigue that bruised the skin around his eyes, they shone with a gratefulness and shyness.

I nodded, afraid of saying something that might ruin the moment.

"I'm impressed. Thanks," he paused, "thanks for everything."

"You're very welcome."

He tugged again and our hands broke apart. His arms reached around me and for a brief moment, I thought he might kiss me and I closed my eyes. My heart leapt into my throat, but there was no softness, no flutter of lips brushing my skin. I opened my eyes to blackness, and the fabric of his hoodie.

With my face pressed against his chest, I could feel the beat of his heart, and against it I knew that tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I let my fingers press into his back, rigid and sore from the adrenaline that had rushed so thickly just a moment ago. I bit down a sob, and by the time we pulled apart, I was able to tug a rueful smile onto my face.

The beast began a stream of whispers inside my head, and it took everything in my power to keep myself together. _He could never love you_ , it murmured. _You cannot be loved. You are alone_.

As he took in my stony expression, he seemed startled. Before he could probe, I took a steadying breath and spoke, "Goodnight, Sebastian."

His brow furrowed, but he made no movement. "Goodnight," he murmured in reply as I turned away and fled into the night.


	28. Chapter 28 - Ten Hearts, Needing

We didn't often have our rendezvous under the cover of darkness, but he had insisted on seeing each other today, even though he had been busy with work for most of it.

As I approached 24 Mountain Road, I felt my pace slow and my pulse stutter. He was already outside, waiting for me. Beside him stood his motorcycle.

"Hey," I said as I stepped closer.

His breath came out in a puff of warm air that conquered the cold winter night. Moonlight struck him, illuminating the angles of his face, emphasizing his lips as he spoke. "Hey," he paused, "I was just about to head out."

"Oh," I said. I gave him a questioning look, my pulse racing with dread for a half-second. I had visions of that day back in the fall when he had been preparing to move to the city. _Leaving_ , my mind cried, _he's leaving_. And once again, it felt as though it was all my fault.

He smiled, noticing the thoughts playing across my face. "No, not like that. Nothing permanent. I wouldn't move away without you. Sometimes I just like to go for a ride." Studying me, he frowned slightly and I felt vulnerable under his eye. With one graceful movement, he slid onto his motorcycle and gestured at me with his chin. "Hop on… I wanna show you something."

Eager, I stepped forward, but stopped just short of the bike. "R-really? I mean, you don't have to. I get that you probably like having this time to yourself. I should have come over earlier."

His eyes narrowed and he raised an eyebrow. "Really," he said with an exacting steadiness. "I mean it. And this is exactly the right time for you to come over."

"Okay," I said softly, and proceeded to clamber on behind him, my footsteps crunching in the snow.

With a roar, we soared into the night.

Clinging to him, I realized just how rapidly my heart was beating. There was an undeniable sense of rightness that came from the feel of my arms encircling him. I had forgotten my gloves at home, but the heat of his body kept me comfortable. Unlike our usual embraces, there was a danger and thrill distilled from the situation itself that highlighted the necessity of my holding him. At this moment, my life depended on him, and I was more than fine about it.

It was a full moon tonight, and its glow was harsh and revealing. There was something about his tone and the set of his jaw that instilled a sense of anxiety in me. It wasn't that I was scared of him or even scared of being on the motorcycle, hurtling down the highway. I was anticipating something, but I wasn't sure what. There was intent and deliberation rolling off him, and as I pressed close to him during a particularly tight turn, he seemed to lean back into me with a reassuring softness.

The light of the moon guided us and cast shadows all about. I could tell that we were on the same highway that we had taken to get to the city before, but something about it was more sinister and cold under the cover of a snow-dusted night.

I wasn't sure how long we had gone when Sebastian signaled and pulled off the highway into a rest area. As we rolled to a stop, I sensed that this wasn't exactly our final destination, and it was with a curious eye that I pulled myself to my feet and watched him do the same.

"Come," he murmured, and grabbed my hand.

Would this sensation of our hands clasped, fingers entwined, ever lose its exhilaration?

It hadn't snowed for some days, and so the parking lot was cleared at the centre with snowbanks piled up at the sides. We left his motorcycle parked in a spot outlined by white paint that was mostly chipped away, and stepped onto what must have normally been grass, away from the restrooms and picnic tables. Nearly hidden by the snow, a narrow dirt path wound away from the amenities around us. It was difficult following it with my eyes as it fell into shadow and drifted into a copse of trees.

It was clear Sebastian was well-acquainted with the place as he maneuvered us easily through the snow-covered underbrush, my boots just barely clinging to the path he forged ahead of me.

As we cleared the edge of the trees, I realized a truth about where we were and my breath caught.

"Is that… is that the edge of a cliff?" I squeaked, pointing with my free hand at what looked like the start of a precipitous drop.

He chewed his bottom lip. "It is, but we don't have to go near it. At least, not yet." He grinned and I made a noise of disgruntlement as he tugged me along.

I wasn't normally afraid of heights, but beyond the edge was a sea of pitch black. Above us the stars twinkled against the backdrop of moonbeams coating the sky, and I trained my gaze upwards, not wanting to think about how far the drop would be off the edge of the cliff.

We walked in relative silence for some minutes until Sebastian stopped and pointed. I dared to look towards the cliff, following the direction of his finger, and gasped.

"Wow," I breathed, my breath visible in the still night. "Is that…?" I trailed off, the words petering out as my hand slipped from his.

A wry smile framed his words. "That's Zuzu City in the distance…"

Against the light from the moon, I saw the city skyline take shape like a great serpentine beast with angular humps for its back. Little beads of light pulsed from the windows of buildings like gleaming scales, and I felt a strange pull deep within my core. I took a step towards the edge of the cliff, and I felt him grab the back of my jacket as some form of assurance. I looked back at him, embarrassed but thankful. I wasn't all that close to the edge, but I appreciated his concern. Before me, the city twinkled and glittered—a creature of glitz and malice.

We lapsed back into silence for a time, each of us taking in the sight before us with measured looks. Finally, he spoke, "I come here when I want to get away from everything and just… think."

I nodded, a silent understanding passing between us that didn't need words for conveyance. There was an undercurrent lapping at the both of us, intensely personal and somehow shared. All at once it was awe-inspiring and terrifying standing at the edge of one world, looking out at another. Behind those lights and towers, there were people, hundreds of thousands of them struggling to carve out a life for themselves.

 _Surviving_ , I thought silently. _Struggling but surviving_.

Behind me, I heard him pull out his lighter and soon I smelled the heady scent of tobacco. I turned just in time to see the remnants of a smoke ring drifting up, past his head and a cigarette balanced between his fingers. I noticed now that he was nervous, although he was also looking more and more at ease as he sucked in breath after breath.

"How long have you known about this place?" I asked. "It's not marked or mentioned at the rest area."

He thought for a moment, his gaze shifting off my face. "Years now. I just stumbled upon it one day when I was upset and rode out of town. It was daytime the first time, and I got lost the second time, but once I had it figured out, it just felt like my spot." He tucked a hand into his pocket. "I've never seen anyone else around here, and it's calm. It feels like I can breathe and sort out my thoughts."

I nodded once more and we both looked out at Zuzu City again. There was something about it—every time I looked out at the city, it felt the same and different, like the scene was static, but the details and my emotions surrounding it changed with every viewing.

 _Home_ , purred the voice of the beast, but it was weak and strained.

I flicked my gaze to Sebastian and felt a word reverberate within me as I took in his stance and the downward turn of his mouth. His eyes were glazed with thought and I detected a battle waging itself behind his brow. He put out his cigarette in the snow and pocketed its remains.

 _No_ , the word thundered and resounded, echoing within me as it stifled the beast. _This is home_.

His voice pulled me out of my thoughts and his eyes were troubled. "So, what do you think?" There was a shyness, a question and pleading.

And there were myriad answers I could give, but only one felt right. I picked my words with care. "It gives me a strange, sad feeling," I said, surrendering my gaze out towards the city once more.

I heard the friction of cloth against skin as he nodded. "Yea… that's exactly how I feel, too." Turning at the sound of his voice, I caught the flush of his cheeks in the sheer light. "The city used to draw me in… but now I'm finding myself happier at home in the valley."

I gave him a tentative smile. "I'm glad," I said.

He nodded and though his lips betrayed nothing, I could see a fire in his eyes that burned away the doubt and uncertainty. It crackled merrily and warmed my insides.

I was just about to return my gaze back to the scintillating city when I felt his hand clasp my arm. It was a light squeeze, but enough to get my attention. I looked at him, eyes wide.

"Hey," he said softly, and his voice cracked. There were lines of distress creasing his brow and his hand shook slightly on my arm.

"Mmhm?"

Sebastian took a deep breath. "I don't usually bring girls—or guys, or anyone—to this place… in fact, you're the only one." He blushed deeper now, his cheeks a scarlet that rivalled the red of a freshly ripened apple. "You know what I'm trying to say, don't you?"

I said nothing, but my pulse raced as another layer of comprehension seeped into me. I didn't realize that we were moving closer, leaning into each other, until his face was inches from mine and instinctively, my eyes closed under the weight of the moonlight. His hands found my waist and then his fingers pressed lightly against the small of my back, and I took in a sobering breath of still nighttime air. My arms raised slightly and my hands rested against his chest. A part of me, a wretched vile part, screamed, _Push him away. You aren't allowed to have this_. But a more dominant part, cried out against it as I felt the beat of Sebastian's heart under my fingertips.

 _No_ , I thought, _this is right_. And I lost my breath as our lips touched.

Time stood still. There was only the beating of his heart, and the beating of my own, wrapped together in a warmth that suffused us both and tore away the cold—a rich sense of relief and satisfaction and joy. The feeling was a slow burn and a spark melded into one; a meal long dreamed of and suddenly here, and I could taste that he longed to feast as much as I did. An undercurrent tugged at us and our hunger ignited into a need that pressed against our inhibitions. The city lay beyond us, forgotten and void of life, as the night ensconced and cradled us to its chest. My fingers crawled their way up until they found his jaw, and he shuddered against my fingertips. The pressure against my back increased and my lips pulled into a smile that caressed his lips into a similar fashion.

As our eyes slid open once again, we broke apart and observed one another with a new keenness, a freshly shared secret. His arms were still wrapped around me and I heard a rawness in his breathing that shook his body.

"Th-thank you for sharing this place with me," I said lightly, my voice unsure of its strength.

His eyes were depthless and dark, full of emotion and something I recognized as longing. He pulled me close and my eyes closed as his lips skimmed my jaw. "You're welcome," he murmured and kissed me again.


	29. Chapter 29 - Let There Be Light

"I'll see you tomorrow at the festival," I said as I stood on my front porch. It was late, probably later than it should have been, and Sebastian had just walked me home after an evening of gaming in his room. My hands were caught in his, kept warm by the heat that seemed to roll off him almost constantly. No wonder he hated the summer time so much.

He nodded in reply and leaned forward, tucking in his chin as our foreheads met and our hands broke apart.

Against the cold, his lips were warm and soft. As his arms wrapped around me, I pressed against him and our kiss deepened. My heart pounded in my chest so viciously, I was sure he could hear it. Even as a breeze swept through the valley, I thought I would drown in the scent of him – tobacco, smoke, and wood. The heady rush of desire surged within me, and without being fully aware of it, my hands found their way under the edge of his hoodie and under his t-shirt. I felt his surprise from the shock of my chilled hands against his lower back. Somehow he only clutched me tighter and my core burned at the feel of him – the smoothness of his skin, the angles of his body, the trace of his fingers as they traveled down my spine.

We broke apart, panting for breath. Too quickly, I pulled my hands back to my sides as my face burned. "Shit," I said, averting my eyes. I took a half-step back and just barely resisted the urge to cover my face.

"Don't apologize," he said, voice thick with emotion. As my eyes met his, I saw that they glittered with unvoiced amusement.

"That was kind of embarrassing," I said, and bit my bottom lip. "What if somebody saw?"

His head cocked to one side as a faint smile played about his lips. "It wasn't embarrassing for me, and there's nobody around." He lowered his voice. "I'd kiss you again if you'd let me."

I didn't think my face could burn any hotter.

He let out a small laugh before composing himself. "I guess this is goodnight, then."

I nodded mutely and waved as he made his way down the front steps and retraced our steps. His smile was a slice in the darkness.

* * *

The next morning brought fresh snow with it, which seemed fitting given today was the Feast of the Winter Star. As I surveyed the fresh layer of powder, it struck me then just how close to spring we were. I didn't understand how it seemed that seasons out here changed so suddenly, but I knew that soon there would be new growth and more sun than snow. Contrary to what Sebastian had predicted, I continued to enjoy the snow. Maybe in a few years, the novelty would wear off, but for now, I still found a magic and majesty in the cold, white flakes.

As I worked my way through my morning chores, I thought about the previous night. Even now, my face flushed as I remembered how his eyes had danced in the darkness. Something had changed after our first kiss. There was a confidence and boldness in every interaction and touch between us, as though that night of admission and confession had lifted the latch on a gate through which our raw, true selves had emerged. Which wasn't to say that either of us had changed our personalities over night, but it was more that there was an openness between us; no longer did we have to question or fret over unrequited feelings. It was as though we had finally arrived at the place we had been blindly running towards since that fateful day his mother had brought me into their kitchen.

As 9 o'clock approached, I finished up my chores, bade my animals farewell, and swooped into my house to grab the present I was to secretly give. There was an excitement that seeped into me as I stepped back out into the cold. This was my first Feast of the Winter Star in my new home.

Back in Zuzu City, the focus on the Winter Star holiday had been around commercial purchases and people scrambling to buy as many presents for friends and family as possible. It was a maddening time in the city, and the streets were almost always full of shoppers. Although I was no longer in town to celebrate with them, my parents had still managed to send me a gift in the mail: a brand new pair of boots.

As I trotted towards town wearing them, I admired my new boots and made a mental note to send my parents a thank you note along with some token of my success, perhaps a bottle of wine or beer.

Stepping onto the paved path into town, I stopped in surprise at the sight before me. Giant candy canes stood along the path and prickly garlands adorned every bit of fence I saw. Most spectacular were the newly erected pine trees, decorated from top to bottom with ornaments of varying sizes and colours. Beneath them presents lay in small, haphazard stacks. The town square was transformed, and I had to admit that the townsfolk impressed me with every event they celebrated here. It was apparent that time and care went into putting up the decorations and planning the activities, and a sense of pride wove through me.

Wandering through the square, I waved at my fellow townsfolk. Everyone was with their families, and with a pang, it struck me how little of a support system I had out here. Maybe it was the sense of family permeating the air, but in that moment, I really missed my parents. I might truly be alone out here if it weren't for Sebastian. Which reminded me…

Spotting him clad in his usual dark clothing, I lost no time making my way over to him.

"Hi," I said, sidling up to Sebastian, who stood beside his mother at one of the large tables laden with food. Along another side of the table, Demetrius and Maru stood. They paused their conversation long enough to greet me cordially.

Sebastian looked to be in a surly mood, but as he faced me, a hardness in his eyes softened and his lips curved ever so slightly. "Hey," he replied with a sigh.

Hidden by the puffiness and length of my coat, he reached for my hand, and a fluttering began in my chest.

"How's it going?" I queried, and a visible ripple of defeat wove through him.

Tight-lipped, he replied, "Spending time with family is tiring sometimes."

"Agreed," I murmured. Looking past him to his mother, I said a little louder, "Hi, Robin."

"Hiya," she beamed at me, "you're welcome to join our family table if you need company."

I nodded. "Thank you for the offer. I might have to take you up on that. But first," I paused to reach into my backpack and retrieve the goat cheese I had stowed in there before leaving the house, "this is for you."

"Oh!" she said, her eyes growing wide. "So you're my secret gift-giver!" As she took the cheese into her hands, she inhaled deeply. A look of pure contentedness settled on her face. "Thank you so much. I love goat cheese." A laugh escaped her lips. "I'm glad to see that you've made use of the extra space I added to your barn."

"I've definitely made use of it," I assured her. "I have a couple goats now, and this is the first cheese I made with their milk."

"Do you mind?" she asked, gesturing at the cheese sitting on her palm.

"Er, no," I said carefully. Sebastian and I swiftly exchanged glances.

Robin brought the cheese to her mouth and took a quick bite of it. I could only blink and stare at her as she chewed pensively. She swallowed noisily and grinned. "Delicious," she exclaimed.

"Great," I said slowly. Glancing around, I was glad to see Mayor Lewis heading in our direction.

He puffed a bit as he shuffled over to us. "Farmer," he called, "it's your turn to receive your secret gift."

Sebastian released my hand and I felt him nudge me towards the tree in the centre of the square. I obliged and strode up to the towering arbor. Up close, I realized that this tree was real; the sweet smell of pine reached for me out of the sea of savoury aromas. As I stood just in front of the tree, looking up at its height, I heard footsteps crunch behind me in a familiar pattern.

Not wanting to turn around and ruin the surprise, I waited until the person stood beside me before turning to face him.

"Hey," he said, voice husky. "Surprise. I'm your secret gift-giver." He took a steadying breath as he presented me with my gift – a small box wrapped in red and green, tidily sealed with a golden bow. "Here, open it."

I took the gift in my hands and carefully ripped away the wrapping paper and ribbon, revealing a wooden box. Casting a curious glance at his reddening face, I opened the lid and gasped at its contents.

"Sebastian, it's beautiful," I breathed, and plucked the dainty ring from where it was nestled in its box. It emitted a small sphere of light around itself, and I could already imagine all the situations in which it would aid me in my work.

"It's a glow ring," he explained. "It'll light up the area around you." He reached for my hand holding the ring and hesitated. "May I?" he asked shyly.

"Oh, yes, certainly."

I let him take the ring from between my fingers. Holding my left hand in his, he paused as he held the ring out. My heart hammered in my chest, blocking out all other sounds around me. With a calm gentleness, he slid the ring onto my middle finger. He seemed to sigh with the movement, though I wasn't sure if it was from relief, acceptance, or disappointment.

On my finger, the ring glowed merrily, casting light all about me. I held my hand out before me, and in my peripheral vision, I caught heads turning towards me, and lips beginning to murmur.

He cleared his throat and I looked up to meet his warm, steady gaze. "I'm not good with words, not like you are," he began, "and I'm not good with talking about my feelings. But this gift captures how I feel about you." He seemed to blush harder and his voice shook as he said, "You're my light in the darkness."

For a moment, it felt as though the breath was knocked out of me, lost in the raging storm of emotions that tore through my insides and left my heart feeling full. "Sebastian," I said, nearly choking on his name, "I'm so touched. That means a lot to me. Thank you." Aware of the many eyes on us, I rose onto my tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Wow," Demetrius said as we rejoined the table. "What an _illuminating_ gift." Sebastian stiffened beside me. "That must have cost a pretty penny."

"That's why I work," Sebastian said quietly.

"Right," Demetrius said coolly. "You said you do _work_ when you're holed up in your room all day, every day."

A flash of anger flared in my veins. "Of course he works. His room is as much his office as the lab is yours."

Demetrius shrugged but said nothing, which I thought was wise of him.

I looked at Sebastian, then. If this had riled me up as much as it had, then almost certainly Sebastian was feeling at least some amount of anger and frustration. Studying the set of his jaw and crease of his brow, I said, "Walk with me."

He nodded, the tension in his brow easing up just a smidgen.

"Just need to get away from the action for a bit," I explained to those we passed as we picked our way out of the square, hand in hand. Caught up in the festivities, no one paid us any mind.

As we reached the edge of it, I sensed him relax as his shoulders lowered and his fingers became less rigid.

"Thanks," he said heavily. "It was stressing me out."

"I know," I replied, brushing a thumb over the back of his hand. "I could tell. And Demetrius was stressing _me_ out."

He frowned then. "I don't want you to miss out on festival things because of me, though."

"As far as I'm concerned, I'm not missing _anything_ by being here with you right now." I looked up at him, taking in the worry lines pulling at the corners of his mouth. "When you're at ease, that's when I'm happiest." I waved my free hand, my ring glinting in the light of its own glow. "Besides, I moved out here to get _away_ from people."

He nodded and pushed back some hair that had fallen onto his face. "I'm grateful that you understand." He hesitated. "I've never met anyone else who has."

"People are awful and shitty," I shrugged. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that people think and act as though everyone else is like themselves."

He pondered my words for a moment, his expression unchanged. "Ugly, but accurate."

"Not all people are awful and shitty, though." I looked at him as we walked past the saloon. "I can't thank you enough for the ring." I held my hand out so I could admire it again, its glow bathing the world in a golden light. "It's one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever received. I don't know if I've ever felt so full and happy."

He ducked his head, obviously embarrassed. "It's a small gift. You deserve much more."

"No gift is small," I said firmly. "It's funny, I remember moving out here, wondering if I'd ever find purpose in my life. I don't think I've told you before," I hesitated, wrestling with my thoughts, "but back in the city, I struggled with that almost daily. There was so much hustle and bustle, I lost myself, and it felt like I was in some dark, endless pit." My voice caught at the end of my sentence, and I took a breath.

He nodded silently, adjusting his hand so that our fingers interlaced.

I began again, "And sure, I do the same things every day here – water crops, talk to neighbours, catch fish – but it's all so rewarding. People care about me, and I care about them." I swallowed loudly. "And a lot of that I owe to you. As much as I am your light, you're also mine."

He seemed to want to say something, but I saw his brows furrow as he struggled with it. The sounds of our friends and neighbours gabbing and laughing had dropped to a dull thrum behind us. His hand squeezed mine, and a sublime warmth suffused me, throwing my pulse into a frenzy. I didn't need to know the words he was trying to frame and make just right.

The rhythm of his footsteps ended as something snagged his attention. We stopped and he pointed at something above us, hanging off the eaves of Mayor Lewis's house.

"What is it?" I asked, peering up at the ribboned thing.

"Mistletoe," he said.

A jolt went through me. "Oh," I said, feeling that familiar, traitorous flush creep along my skin.

"I mean, I'm not one for tradition," he began, and a lovely pink spread across his cheeks, though his eyes were still dark with frustrated thought.

I didn't let him finish as I pulled him towards me, and reveled in the oncoming collision of his lips against mine. He crashed into me, and I accepted the hit with a trembling, naked heart.

It didn't matter that snow began to fall and soak my hair and skin. It didn't matter that at any moment, someone could wander by and see us. The world had fallen away at the edge of his touch – skin against skin, soul igniting soul.

And even as the beast inside me tried to plant thoughts in my head, every beat of his heart slammed the beast back into its place. There was no room left in me for the beast's demanding misery. I was whole and complete.

My head was reeling as we pulled away from each other, our cheeks rosy and warm. "Sebastian," I whispered.

"Yes?" he said, voice low and soft.

"I... I love you," I stammered.

His eyes twinkled in the midday light, and snowflakes glistened in his hair – a constellation of stars painted across a midnight sky. I could tell that he had grasped it now, the finished version of the words he had been deliberating over.

"I know," he said, his lips caught in a grin, "and I love you, too."


	30. Chapter 30 - Year One: Done

The lake had never quite managed to freeze over this winter. Wire-thin pond skaters skittered across its surface, casting ripples where their feet and feelers touched the water. In the reedy water, I could just make out the ghostly shapes of fish as they enjoyed the shallows before diving back into the sapphire depths.

Sebastian and I stood by the side of the lake, in the spot that had been the setting for so many moments that had defined our relationship in more ways than I could fathom. He was taking a smoke break after completing his work, and I was just on my way home after mining for most of the day. I saw the tension in his grip on his cigarette and knew that though he was done his work for the year, he wasn't quite able to let himself relax without the aid of nicotine, much to his chagrin. It would be a slow process, I had assured him, but even still, every puff seemed to eat into him and erode his patience for himself.

"Last day of the year," he said, his breath visible against the darkening sky. Smoke spiralled out from his lips and he dropped the cigarette onto the frozen earth.

"Yup," I nodded, my gaze flickering to watch him stub it out and pocket the remains. Even as snow lay glittering on the ground around us, I could taste the scent of spring on the wind. There was a nip of freshness in the air, a longing for rebirth and new beginnings. "Tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of being out here."

"I can't believe it's already been a year," he said, a wistful quality entering his tone. "It feels like it's been much longer."

Nodding, I said, "It feels like that for me, too. It's weird to think that this time last year I was still in Zuzu City." An unexpected sadness seemed to clamp down on my throat, and for a moment I lost my breath.

"But now you're here," he said, sweeping in quickly at my sudden silence. "And you fit in as well as anyone."

"Thank you," I said, swallowing with a heavy, wet sound that I'm sure he heard. I felt the moment his hand touched my back like it was electricity, and I let out a small yelp at the sudden change in emotions that flooded me.

"So," he began, holding back the beginnings of a snicker, "what did you get up to today?"

"The usual," I said, waving a hand as absentmindedly as I could. "You know, taking care of my animals in the morning and mining for the rest of the day."

"Such nonchalance," he teased, and his hand dropped as he wrapped an arm around my waist. I thought I might faint from the heat that flooded my body. "You'd never know it was the last day of winter."

"Oh, yeah, about that," I began, and peered at him. "Is there an event tonight that I just haven't heard of?"

A puzzled expression worked its way across his face, scrunching his brow and puckering his lips. "I've never heard of there being an event for the last day of the year."

"Oh," I tried not to look crestfallen, "I didn't know that you don't celebrate the year end out here in the valley."

Sebastian shrugged. "We try to only do two festivals per season. I think some people celebrate today with their friends and family, but that's done in their homes. There's nothing public with this one."

"Hmm," I murmured, "so that means that there's no rule saying we can't celebrate it ourselves."

Raising an inquisitive eyebrow at me, he said slowly, "No, there's definitely no such rule."

A fluttering began in my chest. "So," I drew out the word as I thought, "do you have any work that you need to do tomorrow?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Well," I took a deep breath and wondered for a moment why I was so nervous. "Would you like to stay up with me to see the start of the new year?"

There was no surprise in his answering gaze. "Of course," he nodded, looking out over the lake once more. Casting a sidelong glance at me, he said, "And if you're thinking what I _think_ you're thinking, then the answer is yes."

It was my turn to throw a questioning look his way as I tucked my hands in my sleeves. "How did you know I was going to ask about watching the fireworks over the city?"

Not missing a beat, a sly smirk quirked his lips. "I think I know you pretty well." As his gaze left me, he seemed to deflate a bit. "And sometimes you seem like a reflection of myself."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

His brow furrowed. "No, definitely not." He swallowed audibly and ran a hand through his hair. "It's just that… sometimes you're so much like me in terms of interests and behaviours, but in so many ways you're so much better." Pressing his lips into a line, he took an unsteady breath through his nose. "I really admire what you've done, restoring your grandpa's farm, raising all those animals. You're brave to move out here. You didn't have friends or family out here to support you."

"Sebastian," I breathed, just barely containing my sudden sadness, "you're so sweet to think that. But I'm not any better than you. No way, no how." I shook my head and caught the frown that twisted his features. "I admire you a ton, and I feel like I should have said so sooner." I gave him a pleading glance, and his features softened enough to urge me to continue, "I couldn't do freelancing like you, you know that? I actually tried it for a week while I was sorting out what to do about moving out here. It was awful. I was stressed out constantly, and I was so afraid of sending something bad to my client. It was a disaster." I shook my head slowly, wanting to relay enough of the experience to him, but not wanting to relive it in all its tearful, disappointing glory. "I didn't even tell my parents about it," I added.

Taking a deep breath, I faced him and tried to will my voice into steadiness. "And everything that you've gone through, everything you've put up with; you're a strong person, but I don't think you see it."

A heavier breath whistled through his nose this time, and I knew he itched for another cigarette though he said nothing.

"Sebastian," I continued and swallowed down the wave of emotion threatening to conquer me, "I love you. I think you know it, but I wanted to tell you again, and I'll tell you every day if that's what you need, because you need to know that you are an amazing person. If it weren't for you, I never would've made any friends here. Because of you, I got to know Sam and Abigail. Because of you and your mom, I feel like I have a support system out here. And that's because you took a chance on me. You opened your heart to me; you bared your soul and your guts and your fears and – dammit, Sebastian, don't you dare think I'm better than you."

Through my tears I could see how wide his eyes were, how his lips were parted. As he came out of his stunned state, he tentatively reached out, and soon I was ensconced in his warm embrace.

Through the still evening air, he murmured, "Yoba above, you really can get a point across."

In spite of myself, I snorted against his chest, eliciting a tighter squeeze from him.

"Thank you," he whispered and he tensed for just a moment before continuing, "this is exactly why you're so important to me."

* * *

Like our usual nighttime ritual, he walked me home. Though the walk was spent in relative silence, I felt inexplicably close to him, and there was a strange intimacy about walking down the wooded mountain path together.

All too soon we were at my front door, and a cold emptiness yawned between us as he stood steps away from me at the bottom of my front porch.

"I need to make sure my bike is ready to go," he said, and I nodded in response despite the hollowness that welled within me. "I'll come pick you up at eight. Does that work for you?" The remnants of sunlight cast an inhuman glow about him, and my heart ached to look. Moments like this made it hard to believe that we were dating and he wasn't just some mythical creature or figment of my imagination.

"Yes," I said, unable to stop myself from smiling. "I'll prepare some sashimi and we'll make a date of it."

He blushed as an endearingly goofy grin took over. "That sounds really nice."

"I'll see you later," I said, trying not to blush and feel shy, but failing miserably.

He paused, but rushed forward to give me a peck on the cheek before heading off into the gloaming.

* * *

The thrum of his engine was my cue to come outside, and all it took was a nod from him to tell me to hop on behind him. Sliding the familiar helmet over my head, he turned to look over his shoulder at me. I gave him a thumbs up gloved in black leather, and wrapped my arms around him as the engine roared back to life.

I wasn't surprised to see that the highway was practically free of any other traffic. Anyone who had plans for ringing in the new year were likely already at their desired destinations. Everyone else was at home, ready to celebrate with their loved ones. As we came to a stop and I let go of him, I realized that our plans for tonight were not too different, when it came down to it.

The clouds parted for a moment, and as he took off his helmet, moonlight highlighted his silhouette in a dreamy white for a glorious, magical second. The snow here was mostly melted, leaving patches of grass to poke through. Hand in hand, we trudged through the remaining snow to the spot he had brought me to just a few weeks ago. I understood now why he liked this place so much. In some ways, it wasn't so much that the city lay before us in its enticing and crippling grandeur; it was the timelessness of watching it from the outside. Even as the city grew taller and wider, and new spires spun up as the seasons passed, this place remained the same.

The moon was hidden away tonight – just a sliver before rebirth, caught behind a curtain of clouds somewhere vaguely above us. These were ideal conditions for fireworks, and I felt my excitement mount as Sebastian pulled a small, tightly folded tarp out from his pocket. As he spread it out over the snow, I saw that it was just large enough for the two of us to sit on.

"Perfect," I said, and settled myself upon it. I had brought my backpack and as I set it down carefully, I pulled on the zipper.

From within, I retrieved two plates of sashimi and two pairs of chopsticks.

"So," I began after managing to gulp down my first two bites, "how is it?"

He swallowed loudly. "I really love it. I don't know how you always make such good sashimi."

I laughed, being careful not to drop my food. "That'll have to be one thing I never tell you. I can't tell you, or it'll ruin it."

"Hmm," he hummed and took another bite. "I guess I can live with that."

Although he had picked me up just after eight o'clock, it had taken us over an hour to get here despite the light traffic. We finished our meal well before midnight, and there was a dip in the temperature that incited a new tiredness in me. I felt it in the slump of Sebastian's shoulders as well, and I realized just how many hours we had both been awake today. _I must be getting old_ , I thought, as we settled into a calm, restful peace.

The night grew darker, though the stars pressed against the black. "Gosh, it's beautiful out here," I said.

He nodded, and neither of us felt compelled to converse further.

And truthfully, that was one of the best things about my relationship with Sebastian. Even as friends, I had never felt pressured to always be the one speaking. There was a comfortable silence that filled the space between us and it was a relief that contrasted starkly against the constant chatter that Sam liked to engage in. Somehow it was enough just to bask in each other's company.

Neither of us knew when midnight came upon us, but suddenly the sky lit up.

"It's starting," I squeaked, and pressed up against Sebastian.

In the clear skies over Zuzu City, a series of green sparks shot into the air and formed the rough shape of a _10_. It was almost immediately superseded by a _9_ in red, and I knew that the countdown was on. Clutching Sebastian's warm hand in mine, we counted down the rest of the way, our voices echoing until they were lost in the vastness of it all. "Three, two, one," we chanted, and I turned to look at him, wishing I could etch the moment into my mind's eye forever.

"Happy new year," he murmured and our lips met beneath the wave of fireworks that shot up from the city before us.

 _Yes_ , I thought, as we drew apart, our gazes linked and unwavering. _It_ has _been a good year. Thank you, grandpa. Thank you, Sebastian._

I rested my head on his shoulder as his arm encircled me. "Happy new year, Sebastian," I whispered and felt the calmest, stillest happiness I had known in a long time.


	31. Chapter 31 - Spring By the Sea

Spring arrived like a gale force—swift and intangible, bringing a fresh breath of life into the land. The snow disappeared as though it had never existed, and I accepted this as the valley's natural magic.

Finally, I could fall back into the steady rhythm of farming, and as I planted my first seeds of the new year, I knew in my heart that this was what I should be doing. The familiar busyness of farming took some getting used to; I had to be a lot more careful with how I spent my time and energy. Every evening felt like it ended too soon, and I was left with the exhaustion of the day's work cloaked about myself. But I couldn't deny the strange satisfaction that the fatigue brought me, a fulfilment that carried me to slumber with a smile on my face.

There was a downside, however. With all of my regular farming activities resumed, I had less time to spend with Sebastian. Every time I sowed new seeds or rounded up my animals back into their enclosures for the night, the moment contained a little drop of poison; this moment could have been one spent with Sebastian, and the truth of it burned my soul. Even my trips into town where I occasionally ran into him had the ulterior motive of an errand lurking underneath it.

I counted on Sebastian's habitual routine to give me that extra time with him that I had taken for granted in the winter.

And so on the first rainy day of the year, I found myself heading for the beach, despite the grey sky that drenched the land with its tears.

 _He's got to be there_ , I assured myself, but my relief would not come until the moment my eyes alit on the dark form standing at the end of the pier. It was a pure, fluttering pleasure that brought a smile to my lips and a hand to my chest.

My boots crunched against the gritty sand as a tread through across the beach to the water. The waves that lapped at the shore were frothy and wild, it was thrilling and terrifying all at once to be so close to it.

But I felt inexplicably safe as I kept my gaze focused on Sebastian.

"Hey," I said as my boots tapped a steady beat against the wooden platform.

He turned at the sound of my voice, and flashed a small, crooked smile in my direction. "Hey," he replied, voice warm and slightly breathless. He grinned as he took in the light from the ring on my finger and nodded towards it. "That makes it even harder not to notice you."

Unable to contain the relief that had swelled within me, I came up behind him and engulfed him in an embrace. His body was tense from the initial shock of my movement, but as the moments passed, the stress seeped out of him and his arms came up to wrap around my own with an unexpected fierceness.

"I miss seeing you as much as I did before," I murmured, ignoring the heat that enflamed my cheeks.

"I miss seeing you, too." I could not ignore the note of sadness tainting his words.

"How's work?" I released him, but kept his hand in my own as I came to stand beside him, a halo of light surrounding the interlocking of our fingers between us.

He shrugged. "Good. Got some new projects on the go."

"That's great," I said, smiling. "Please tell me they're more interesting than creating reports for people."

"Oh definitely," he said, and I caught the true joy behind the words as he continued, "there's an indie game studio that's hired me to help build their new game engine."

"Sebastian," I stood back in awe, mouth gaping. "But that's amazing. I'm so excited for you. Hell, I'm just excited, period!"

A light flush splashed across his cheeks, and he grinned in earnest. His hair was soaked through with rain, and the sky was full of threatening clouds, but he looked the happiest I had ever seen him. "Yea, they're taking a gamble on me since I don't have a lot of game dev experience."

"But you're going to kill it, anyway," I crowed proudly, beaming up at him.

"Well, I don't know about that," he rubbed the back of his head with his free hand and his blush turned furious.

"Fine," I sobered, and I sensed some relief from him. "Even if you don't, I'm proud of you anyway. The experience will have been worth it. I'm sure of it."

He nodded and let out a breath. A weight seemed to have been lifted off of him. "That reminds me," he began slowly, sounding pained, and all at once he looked crestfallen, "I should get back so I can put in some work on it." He sighed. "They already set a release date and it's not looking like we'll be able to hit it."

"An unwise decision by them," I mused aloud. I looked down at our entwined hands, and slowly loosened my fingers. "I suppose I should let you go, then," I said, but my confidence rang false in my own ears. I looked up at him, and the morose quality in his gaze stuttered.

"Hey," he said, turning to face me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and I could feel the heat of his touch through my jacket. "I hear that tone in your voice. We'll figure this out. We did before, we will again."

My heart fluttered in my chest and I nodded, unable to rid myself of the sensation that my throat had closed up.

"I—I love you," he stammered, and our lips met with soft intensity as spring rain fell around and over us.

 _Home, this feels like home_ , I thought desperately as our kiss ended far too soon and I gazed at the man who seemed to mirror my own misgivings back at me.

He looked the picture of loss and despair, dressed in black as he was, but as we clasped hands one more time, a radiance in his face pierced through the loneliness as his eyes roved my face like he was seeing me for the first time.

 _In love_ , I realized, identifying the source of the glow that came from within him. _He looks like he's in love_.

"I'll see you soon," I said just loud enough to be heard above the howling storm. "I promise."

He nodded, his eyes lingering on me, and I watched him trudge his way back up the dock towards the beach, and back into town.

A deep-rooted anguish took a hold of me—not quite intense enough to spring tears from my eyes, but pure enough to drag my feet as I walked back to the sandy shore. I took my time leaving the beach, picking up shells along the way. I saw Elliott's cabin and almost went to it, only to be stopped by my desire to be alone. So I wandered past, to the edge of the beach and the small, wooden bridge there that connected it to the overgrown eastern half.

Crossing the bridge to the other side, I continued my mindless plucking of shells and coral off the shore. The tidal pools glinted grey, still reflections of the turbulent sky. There were some different kinds of things on this beach, and I wondered vaguely if they would sell for more.

 _What do I need more money for, though?_ I thought dully. My crops were doing well, and my animals were healthy. I had more than enough money to live comfortably by myself. But if I wasn't to just be living by myself anymore...

It was this moment of frustrated clarity that caused me to lift my eyes from the rocks and sand to freeze.

I wasn't sure what I was looking at—was it a man? A spectre? Someone I didn't recognize stood along the northern edge of this section of the beach, and I was fairly certain I recognized everyone who lived in Pelican Town.

The figure shifted slightly, but maintained a mistiness about himself, and I felt compelled to speak to him for some unknown reason. His dark beard was scraggly and streaked with grey. I saw that he was dressed like a mariner, with his blue work shirt and scuffed jeans tucked into rubber boots. His clothes were faded, and as I looked him over once more, it seemed that his entire self was faded. As I approached, his dark eyes watched me from beneath the brim of his worn, brown hat, and my spine tingled with anticipation.

"Hello," I said.

"Ah, I can see it in yer eyes," he said, voice rough and haunting.

I took in the unblinking quality of his stare and found that my words had failed me.

The man smiled at me. "There be a special someone in yer heart."

"How did you know?" I blurted out, narrowing my eyes. I peered at him, but he merely grinned, his teeth crooked and yellow.

He continued as though I hadn't just asked him a question, "Just so happens I'm sellin' a mermaid's pendant." He withdrew a worn, tanned hand out of his pocket and held it in front of himself. His fingers uncurled and I peered at his open hand.

"A mermaid's pendant?" As I took in the small blue shell cradled in his calloused palm, I felt a strange feeling in my gut. The pendant was conical and thin, but a vibrant sky blue in colouring that seemed to glow with an unusual light as he shifted his hand. "Oh, it's beautiful." I wondered vaguely if Sebastian would find this as interesting as some of the quartz I had given him over the past year. As I looked back up at the old man's face, that uneasy feeling in my gut intensified.

"Give that to yer intended and they'll know exactly what you mean." He gave me a knowing nod.

"I… I don't understand."

"Do you want to buy this?" he asked, not offering me any more explanation. "5000 gold."

I hesitated, drawing my hand back as I looked at him. Aside from the spectral quality about him, he seemed kindly and weary, as though he had been waiting here for a very long time.

"If I buy it, I won't be locked into some curse or something, will I?" I thought of the mirror in the wizard's tower and the heartache it had brought me. I wasn't sure if I was quite ready to accept magic back into my life.

The mariner shook his head. "No, there be no tricks about it, no magic or illusion. This comes down to love, and I know the look when I see it." He chuckled to himself and proffered the pendant once more. "What do you say, lass?"

Every logical sense in me screamed not to do it: you should be cautious—remember that last time you played with fire? What if there are repercussions? What if it doesn't elicit the response he says it will?

But I could not grasp the word "no" with my tongue. As I stared at the small blue shell in his brown, weathered palm, my heart raced with the possibilities. "Sure," I squeaked, and cleared my throat. "I mean, yes. I'll take it."

The mariner beamed and nodded his approval. "Here you go, lass," he said, and he poured the pendant into my open palm, its thin chain gleaming in the clouded light.

I looked down at the small blue thing that glinted with iridescence, and as my fingers closed over it, I knew that this was the right thing to do. The very pendant seemed to hum in my ear about all of the secrets and wishes it could unlock, and its seduction sealed my decision.

As I handed my 5000 gold to the mariner, I watched him fade into the mist.

Tucking the pendant into my bag, I felt a warmth trickle into my heart. I just hoped that the mariner had been right, and that Sebastian did, in fact, know what it meant.


	32. Chapter 32 - Heavy Lies the Pendant

The cloudy days of spring were slipping by, and still the mermaid's pendant burned a hole in my backpack and my mind. Every night I held it in my hands and looked at it, fascinated by its beauty, and thought of what it meant, what it could mean. Was there any other interpretation of what the mariner had said that did not lead to marriage?

"Give that to yer intended and they'll know exactly what you mean," he had said, and I was finding it difficult to glean the meaning behind the words without feeling my palms get sweaty, and for palpitations to seize my heart. Was I ready to ask Sebastian to marry me? Was it too soon? I had known him for just over a year now, but it felt like much longer in some ways with how often I had seen him. And what would his reaction be? Would he say yes? Would he want to move out onto the farm with me?

I thought back to the spreadsheet he had put together for budgeting and the numerous times he had revealed that the book he was currently reading was focused around farming. Perhaps these had been subtle hints all along. Perhaps he had given this more thought than I gave him credit for.

But at the same time, I shouldn't assume, and I was brought back to the fear that rested in the pit of my gut.

 _So what's the worst that could happen?_ I asked myself as I tucked the pendant out of sight into my backpack one more time. He could say no, he could say maybe. An answer of "not now, but later" was not so bad, I reasoned. But he might say no with a terrible fury. He might say never with a heart-shattering vehemence. He might demand that our relationship end with no chance for redemption. I had already nearly lost him once before, and I didn't want to face that threat again.

But that, I reminded myself as I burrowed deeper into my blankets, was because I had been untrue to myself. I had made assumptions about what he had wanted without asking him directly. But this time, if I played my cards right, my words would be soaked with an unabashed honesty. I would be offering myself to him, my soul laid bare and raw. The very thought of it made me squeeze my eyes shut against the dizzying realities that could come with it. Engagement, marriage, moving in together—

 _But he deserves it_ , I thought fiercely, even as my chest heaved with the weight of my hidden plan. _He deserves to know how I feel, he deserves to decide the fate of this relationship. He deserves the right to say yes or no. He deserves to tell me how he feels._

And so every day that I saw Sebastian, I kept this secret, this pendant, tucked out of sight. A part of me so badly wanted to clasp it into his hands and tell him that he was what I needed in my life, that it was him that I craved to taste every morning, him that I longed to hold in the dead of night. And yet every time I took in the fatigue that ringed his eyes and feasted on his energy, I held back. He was too busy for weekly band rehearsals now, how would he even have the time to consider my proposal?

It didn't seem likely that marrying me would relieve any of the burden that lay about his shoulders, gnawing on him, wasting him away.

And so it had been a most pleasant surprise when I saw his dark form coming down the path from the direction of town a few days later as the shadows began to grow long and the sky began to bleed purple. Spring was waning, stepping aside for the all-powerful summer that was just around the corner, and I was admittedly not looking forward to the heat.

"Sebastian," I cried, and dropped the potato I had just dug up. Running up to him, I skidded to a halt, suddenly shy, and all too aware that dirt was caked onto my hands, clothes, and flushed cheeks.

"Hi," he said, his lips upturning at the ends. Despite the obvious joy that bloomed across his face, the syllable he had uttered was lined with fatigue, and his eyes looked haunted from lack of sleep.

I wiped my hands on my jeans and almost grasped him in an embrace, but stopped myself. I was just too grubby to force myself on him right now. The disparity between his profession and mine kept a distance between us that made me miss my old life with a strange pang and longing.

But alas, Dog had other ideas.

"Oh, shoot, Dog, get down!" I said as I tried to pull Dog down off of Sebastian. He struggled against my touch, overjoyed at the sight of someone on his homestead who wasn't me. His muddy front paws had left very distinct, brown paw prints on the legs of Sebastian's black jeans and I cringed at the sight of them. "Oh, no! I'm so sorry, Sebastian. I'll wash your jeans, or buy you a new pair. I don't know if that mud will come out. Bad Dog!"

He woofed cheerily despite how I had raised my voice and I despaired, casting Sebastian an apologetic look.

"It's okay," Sebastian said, cracking a grin. "I'm doing laundry tomorrow, and I have lots of other pairs."

Dog wriggled out of my grasp and we watched him for a few minutes as he dashed about the field, barking happily. He came up to Sebastian a few times and looked up expectantly, but whenever Sebastian knelt down to pet him, he galloped off again.

Something about Dog's adorable goofiness brought out a playfulness in Sebastian that melted my insides. In the presence of this perky pup, that oppressive tiredness looming over him seemed to evaporate and lift as he was overcome with an infectious laughter.

"So," I said with a chuckle. Dog had finally calmed down enough for Sebastian to give him a proper belly rub. "What brings you around these parts?"

Sebastian shrugged, a smile still gracing his lips. "Ran out of food so I went to the saloon to get more and thought I'd take the long way back home. The more time outside the better, since I'm going to be in front of my computer for the next six hours."

I grimaced. "Ugh, that sounds horrible."

"It does. It will be." His smile evaporated for a moment, but Dog barked, asking for more tummy rubs, and Sebastian obliged, a smile spilling free once more.

Finally, Dog rolled back onto his feet and sprinted off. We stood beside each other watching him as the sunset tinged the land a hearty crimson.

"How's it looking for the deadline?"

"Not good." He sighed and slipped his hand into mine, and I was startled by his boldness. I gave his hand a squeeze, not caring about how much dirt I was pressing into the creases of his skin.

"I hate that," I murmured. "I hate deadlines and pressures, especially when they're unreasonable like this."

"Well," he breathed, "we might be getting more funding soon so there's some hope for an extension."

"That's good to hear."

"I'll get through it," he said and returned the squeeze I had given him earlier. "Are you ready for the Egg Festival tomorrow?"

"Oh, definitely," I said with a sly grin, glad to think of happier, lighter things. "I've been practicing sprinting around the farm." I released his hand and took on a runner's stance, waiting for a pretend pistol to signal my start.

On cue, Dog barked and I shot into the field, running down the line of parsnips that were waiting to be plucked, and the cauliflower that had only started to bud. I reached the end of the row and skidded, pivoting on the heel of my boot, only to rocket back towards the grinning man in black who I deigned to call my lover.

"Impressive," he said as I came to a stop beside him. He caught me as I stumbled, and Dog barked happily, pressing his front paws to the backs of my thighs. "You're going to take first place."

"That's the plan," I said, breathing heavily. As I looked into his eyes crinkled with mirth, I felt my pulse race and my body lean into him. He wrapped me in a dirt-covered embrace and I thought my heart would sing. How I had missed these moments together. Simple moments that reminded me of why I had fallen so irrevocably and fully for this creature, this moody figure with dark sensibilities and a tender heart. "Will I see you there tomorrow?" I asked, tone tentative and half-afraid.

He hesitated, a thousand thoughts coursing across his face in his silence. "Maybe."

I nodded, accepting of the truth if not a little disappointed. "There's no pressure from me for you to be there."

"Thank you," he said quietly, and sighed again. "I don't think I say it enough, but I appreciate that you put up with me and my work."

"Of course," I said quietly. "You put up with me and mine." I gestured at the land around us.

He grew pensive and sighed once more. "I guess I should head home now. I wish I came out this way more often, Dog's just too adorable."

My head bobbed up and down. "Yes, please do visit. Whenever you have the time," I added and reached out to grasp his arm, but ended up dropping my hand, embarrassed once again by how much mud was caked under my nails and along my fingers.

"Hey," he said, catching my trailing hand, "are you embarrassed by a little dirt?"

My cheeks burned once again. "It's a lot of dirt, but yes."

"Don't be," he murmured, pulling me close. "Dirt doesn't scare me." He pressed his lips to my forehead. I tried not to think of the patches of dried mud smeared there. "And if it did, it'd be my duty to accept it."

"Thank you," I whispered and reached up to kiss him, barely keeping down the discomfort and shame lining the bottom of my gut. He was right, though. "Like how it's on me to accept you when you're covered in motor oil after you work on your bike."

His smile was a slice in the encroaching twilight and my heart felt full. "Yes, exactly."


	33. Chapter 33 - Closest Friends Conspire

"Alright, well," Sebastian began, a frown creasing his brow, "I have to get going."

His frown was infectious and I caught his friends mirroring the expression. "We only played one round, though," Sam protested, putting down his pool cue with a clatter. He looked stricken and appalled.

Sebastian sighed, his shoulders rising and falling with the sound. "I know," he said, and I could tell he was irritated from the roughness of his tone. "I have to get going, though. There's too much work for me to do."

Abigail shook her head, lips twisted into a deep frown. "Seriously?"

"Yes," he said, and his tone sliced through the disappointment of his peers like a blade through hot butter. An uncomfortable silence filled the space, juxtaposed against the busy chattering of the saloon's main dining area. No one out there seemed aware of the frustrations brewing on our side.

"Hey," I said, pushing myself up from the couch where I had been lounging, talking to Abigail. I was finding her company a lot better now that the air was cleared between us. "It's fine. We get it." I threw the both of them meaningful looks. In response, Abigail gave a hesitant nod while Sam only offered a blank stare. "I can walk you home," I said.

Sebastian shook his head. "No, it's raining and gross out. I don't want to trouble you."

"You know that I don't mind," I replied with a faint smile, but had a feeling of where this was going.

He sighed, and the sadness of it scratched the edge of my soul. "I know, but I'm going to be going really fast. I shouldn't have stayed out 'til now in the first place." His shoulders slumped. "There's still some time, though, you should all have fun for the rest of the evening."

I could tell from the finality of his tone that he wanted this time alone, away from all of us, to be allowed the freedom of his thoughts. I had no doubts that his mind was already elsewhere, lost in the intricacies and complexities of software development and worrisome deadlines.

"Okay, well, since you insist," I said and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Sam grumbled something indistinguishable under his breath, but clapped Sebastian on the shoulder with a heavy hand. Abigail stayed where she was seated on the couch and nodded her farewell as she raised a hand.

Something of a grateful smile flitted across his lips as he strode out of the room and gave a half-wave back to us.

A new kind of silence surrounded us, one that was foreign and thin. The music from the jukebox filtered over to us beneath the patter of footsteps thumping in time to the beat, and the sounds of raucous laughter. Conversation buzzed over to us, inaudible in its details, but precise in its tone and cadence. And yet, it was eerily quiet in our part of the saloon. It was never just the three of us hanging out; despite his quiet disposition, Sebastian was the glue that had brought us all together. It felt strange not to have him here now, and the silence yawned and stretched around us as we looked each other over.

I cleared my throat, but no words or conversation came to me.

Finally, a sigh whistled through Sam's lips. "I wish he wasn't so busy," he said glumly, and he truly had the air of a dejected pup. He looked sadder than Dog ever did, and I was struck by how much his current state contrasted against his usually sunny demeanour.

"Me too," Abigail said softly, and let out a sigh of her own.

Sam grimaced. "I don't even get why he's so busy anyway. It's just code. It's just work. I don't let _my_ work get in the way of things like _friendship_."

I raised an eyebrow, feeling a crackle of warmth swell within me. "Well," I began, chewing my bottom lip, "it's not just that. He might be living at home, but he's pretty independent. Like he makes his own meals and does his own laundry. He doesn't have much to do with the rest of his family. Beyond room and board, they don't take care of him."

Sam frowned. "Hmm, I guess so," he said, dubiety sharpening his tone.

Trying to keep the exasperation out of my sigh but failing miserably, I added, "It's hard to understand, but he has to manage his time really carefully. Making meals, doing laundry, actually doing his work, seeing me—heck, seeing all of us. It's a lot." I nodded at the two of them. "And it's not like you can just sit down and code something. You have to communicate with your team, you have to get a good grasp on what the issue is, then research your solution, and design the system. You have to rework old code, you have to write new code, and you have to review other people's code. It's a process in and of itself."

Sam continued to frown, but he nodded slowly, stiffly. "That sounds like more than I would've thought," he paused, "but I'm pretty sure his mom would cook his meals and do his laundry if he asked."

Another light sigh drifted out of Abigail. "He probably feels like he'd be a burden on his mom," she stated, picking a piece of lint off her shirt and tossing it onto the floor.

Nodding, I cast a grateful look at her. "Yes, exactly."

 _Not everyone leeches off their family_ , I thought, trying not to be too pointed with the glances I gave them both. Did Sam make enough money as a janitor to support himself? Was he turning any profits from selling his band's records? As far as I knew, they didn't have any other merch. And were any profits from album sales split among the three of them? I thought of Abigail then, too. As far as I knew, she only worked part-time at her dad's store. It seemed unlikely that she would be able to support herself either, should she be forced to move out anytime soon. I thought about the cohorts and friends I had had growing up, and where they had ended up. So many of them had had to work during middle school and high school in order to pay for college and rent as they had moved out of their family homes. It was all so different from the state that Sam and Abigail were in. In comparison, the other unmarried folk out here were a lot closer to my ideas of normalcy.

Although, I reminded myself, rent and property were considerably cheaper out here compared to back in the city. A memory surfaced in my mind of finding out that Abe's was shutting down during my trip to Zuzu City with Sebastian. As much as that news had surprised me, it was all too often the case in the city as costs of living and operating businesses skyrocketed with every passing season. I couldn't apply my urban concepts of rent and owning property to Stardew Valley. They were completely different worlds.

And yet when I thought of Sebastian, I recalled how determined he had been to move to the city, how sure, how desperate. He must have saved up quite a bit of money to be that confident, but given his vocation, it didn't surprise me that he had had the funds to leave on that day when I'd thought I'd thoroughly lost him. It made sense that he would live at home while he saved up for a place in the urban jungle. That was certainly one aspect in which he seemed well-suited to the city, that ravenous place full of hungry people—hungry for wealth, hungry for hustle and bustle, hungry for fame. Sebastian was hungry for escape and understanding, and I could easily see how the city could offer those things to him at least in spirit, if not in actuality.

 _But here we are again_ , I thought dryly. Sam and Abigail still didn't get it, after all these years, and after my trying to explain it. Was I the only one in the entire valley who understood that what Sebastian did was a real job, one that brought in a decent income and a generous amount of independence? He was eligible a bachelor as any of them, and yet he himself didn't see it. I thought of the mermaid's pendant in my bag.

"Yo, farmer," Sam said, peering into my face.

I startled out of my thoughts.

"Earth to farmer. Come in, farmer."

"Oh for shit's sake," I said, shaking my head from side to side.

"You seemed lost there for a bit." Sam shrugged.

Abigail eyed me with her head tilted just to the side, her blue gaze curious. "What's on your mind?" Her smile was encouraging, and her eyes were kind. I took in a breath, teetering between the truth and a lie.

Sam leaned closer, studying me as concern lined his brow.

I swallowed and decided to be truthful. They were my friends, after all. Besides Sebastian, they were my closest.

"So," I said, and hesitated, taking a deep breath. They looked at me curiously. "How do you guys feel about marriage?"

They stared at me.

"Are"—Sam paused—"are you asking us?" He waggled his eyebrows and gave me a lascivious grin. "For a three-way marriage?"

"No, no." I shook my head violently and held back on dignifying Sam's question with a real response. "I mean specifically... about me and Sebastian." The lump in my throat gave way. "I got this thing." I pulled the mermaid's pendant out of my backpack, trying to ignore how clammy my hands were. "I was thinking of giving it to Sebastian."

The both of them leaned in closer, Abigail rising to her feet, their mouths gaping.

"Is that really a—?"

"No way, that has to be a—"

"It's a mermaid's pendant," I explained lamely. I took in the impressed looks on their faces. "So what do you both think, as his closest friends?"

Abigail began to shake her head and I felt my heart sink like a rock in free fall. "No," she said plainly, " _you're_ his closest friend."

Relief washed over me like rain drenching a raging forest fire. "Oh, right. Okay," I bobbed my head, "so what do you think, as his good, _long-time_ friends?"

"So, for me, personally," Sam began, sounding uncharacteristically matter-of-fact, "I don't see a problem with it."

"Thank you, Sam," I beamed.

He narrowed an eye at me. "But don't go stealing away all his time with us."

I stared at him. "Sam," I said, unable to keep the exasperation out of my voice once more. "It's not like I'm going to stop being your friend. We already hang out all together most of the time."

He pondered this for a moment. "I mean, yeah, I guess so."

"Well," Abigail cut in, tone thoughtful, "I think it's a great idea. You'll get to see him more, he'll get to see you more. That'll make him very happy, and you too, I think."

"Oh yeah, and you can cook his food and do his laundry," Sam said with a small amount of amazement. "Man, being married sounds kind of good. Almost as good as living at home."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but smile. I really was glad that both seemed on board with my plan. "Well, I'm glad neither of you object."

"No, definitely not," Abigail said with a serene smile.

"I mean," Sam said impatiently, "just promise not to ever break his heart again."

"Don't be a dingus," I retorted, but my cheeks were burning as I remembered that fateful meeting after my visit to Rasmodius's tower. Oh Yoba, that had been disastrous. Perhaps Sam had some right to being wary this time. If our roles were reversed and I was him, would I entrust Sebastian's heart to me, the farmer who had wronged my best friend? _Probably not_ , I thought with a sigh of my own. "I love Sebastian," I explained, as though I was pleading my case pitifully. The words had just slipped out, but I realized that there was no shame in them for me. It was the truth and I was proud to say it.

Sam narrowed his eyes at me and brought his extended index and middle fingers up to them. He pointed first at his own eyes, and then at me, and repeated the gesture several times. "I'm watching you. You know, I'm holding you to this. Make Sebastian happy. Or else."

I glared at him and found that my gaze was met with an unexpected iciness. "Of course I'm going to do it," I said as my face warmed. "You can count on me to do right by him. Now and forever."

Sam began a slow nod, but said nothing. I wondered vaguely if it had been unwise of me to share my intentions with him and Abigail.

 _Too late now_ , I thought dully.


	34. Chapter 34 - Perfect

Night was on the cusp of falling, casting a rich shade of indigo across the still surface of the lake. The air was damp, but cool. The heat of the day had slowly sloughed off as eventide had come, cautious and luxurious in its touch that trailed along everything, inciting shadows to blossom and lengthen. A chorus of crickets chirruped somewhere in the brush, and the flora that was in full bloom rustled in a light, tickling breeze. The air was rich with the smell of growth, a mixture of things I could not quite name and number. This was the height of spring, and all the valley was indulging in it.

It was just the two of us, Sebastian and I, standing here in the clearing by the lake. His project's deadline had been extended another season and so it seemed right for us to meet tonight and spend some quality time together.

"You didn't want to invite Sam or Abigail to hang out?" I had asked as I had settled on his bed and began thumbing through the comic book that sat on his pillow.

He had shaken his head, the movement containing no hesitation or question in it. "I'll tell them later about the extension." He had come and sat next to me then, reclined such that I could see his relief and exhaustion in the lines of his body. His gaze had slid to mine. "There's only one person in the entire world right now that I want to see," he paused, a light pink already creeping across his cheeks, "and it's you."

I nodded, unable to contain my grin. "I understand completely."

We had spent the afternoon resting, reading, and talking. We were both behind in the comic series we were reading so it had been a comfortable silence that had covered and coddled us while we had read. The silence was punctuated by all of the small bits of information we hadn't been able to relay to each other over the past few weeks: reactions to the ending of Lionheart XII, jabs at the new programming language that was currently all the rage, inquiries about how our families were doing.

We probably would have spent the entire night like this except I had stumbled and swayed when I had stood up, hungry for more reading material, ready to dig into another comic. He had caught my arm in his grasp, lines of worry creasing his brow as the room had spun around me.

"Hey," he had said, "maybe we should go outside for a bit, get some fresh air. You have to take care of yourself." He eyed me, a genuine concern flitting about his lips with a slight frown. "And when you don't, I will."

Haltingly, I had nodded my agreement. Who was I to argue with caring intentions?

We left his house at the apex of sunset, that golden hour that was glorious and mournful all at the same time. I thought vaguely about how my animals were all likely making their way back inside their barns and coops. I would have to make sure to close up after them when I got back, but there was plenty of time still to do that.

"You know," I had said, "I kind of feel better already. Less dizzy somehow." I sucked in a deep breath of fresh mountain air, feeling my heart throb in my chest as my thoughts touched on that familiar pendant in my bag.

"Being outside does everyone some good," Sebastian had said as we came to the side of the lake. The last rays of sunlight streaked across his face, and I felt my heart stutter as I took in this sight that I couldn't have dreamt of witnessing just over a year ago. Who had we been last year at this time? A fledgling farmer trying to make sense of a new life? A misunderstood software developer longing for a change? A lot had happened in a year.

And now here we were, basking in the after glow of day melting into dusk, somehow less lost and more understood.

"It definitely feels like we're in the second half of spring now," I said looking up from watching a small fish shimmy through the clear waters before us. "Look at all the flowers in bloom, vibrantly pink and beautiful."

"Yup." His curt response caught my attention, and there was an irritation in his tone.

I blinked. "Is something bothering you?" I asked, heart sinking. That had been a strangely sudden change in his disposition.

"The flower festival is in three days," he said moodily, a stormy darkness reflecting in his eyes. I could see that this had been gnawing on him, though he hadn't mentioned it until now.

A curiosity got hold of me. "Can't you just not go?"

He sighed. "All the unmarried people are supposed to participate. It's a tradition."

I felt a jolt in my chest, and an idea crept into my consciousness that both excited and disturbed me. My palms were sweaty as I turned my backpack around so that it hung off my front, but somehow I managed to do so without shaking. "Including me?" Sebastian's eyes flicked to my fingers tugging on the zipper, but his gaze returned to the calm waters of the lake as I groped around for the pendant I had spent every night gazing at until slumber took me. As my fingers closed around its familiar shape, I slipped my hand back out of my bag, feeling a small amount of relief mingled with fear.

"I think for yourself it's up for debate. But for the rest of us who have been here forever..." he trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand. I could hear all the unsaid things behind the movement: the gossip, the judgements, the whispers, the questions.

My heart pounded in my chest with anticipatory stress. Was I really going to do this? Was today the right day? But if not today, would there ever be a right day? What if proposing only made his bad mood worse? And what if he said no? I silently sucked in a deep breath and felt my decision balance on the edge of a blade.

"I'll dance with you if you go." My voice sounded suspiciously nonchalant as I shrugged, trying to conceal the turmoil that churned my insides. "Though I don't know if that really solves anything."

He gave out a short, sad laugh, and I was glad not to detect anger in it. "I appreciate you offering to suffer along with me," he said and managed a small smile that dissolved back into distress. His fingers fidgeted, and I knew that he longed for a cigarette, though he did not reach into a pocket for one. A flutter of pride shone through my tempest of fears for a moment.

"I just hate it," he continued, a cold fury colouring his words now. "I hate the stupid outfits. I hate the stupid dance we have to do. I hate having everyone watching. It's so embarrassing, and you'd think I'd have gotten used to it by now, but I haven't—I can't. I just can't." His words ended with anguish, a torturous sense of defeat accepted and embraced. There was a silent question behind his words _: what's wrong with me? Why am I the only one bothered by this so much?_ He looked at me with mournful eyes that were full of dying stars, and my breath caught. I understood him, understood that intense discomfort that this dance brought him. I remembered that anonymity I had valued so much back in Zuzu City, and knew that despite the freneticism of the city, that was one aspect that he longed for and could not have here. Anonymity brought a freedom with it, and didn't we all just want freedom, in the end? The freedom to be who we wished, and do what we pleased?

My decision slipped from its precarious perch and I knew what I wanted to do.

"Well," I began, picking my words carefully, the thud of my pulse filling my head like a low, throaty drum, "what if you no longer met the criteria for having to participate?" The mermaid's pendant seemed to warm in the palm of my hand, encouraging and evocative.

He cut me a severe look that wasn't nearly as suspicious as it should have been. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is," I paused and held my hand out in front of me, my fingers unfurling around the glistening blue shell. "Sebastian," his name fell from my lips like a curtain on a stage, "it's been a tough spring being away from you so much. And I know you've been busy and I don't want you to feel bad about it, but it's been hard. I think you've felt it too. I'm thankful for all the time you've spent with me, but I wish I could've been there more to support you." I swallowed as his eyes drifted down from my face and he took in the pendant cupped in my palm, glinting in the fading light of the day and the glow from my ring. I inhaled deeply. "I want to be the one you wake up to, I want to be the one who takes down your nightmares so you can sleep. I want to cook for you, I want to care for you, I want to whisk you away from this house and the monsters within it. Sebastian," I continued, just barely maintaining my nerve under the intensity of his gaze, "I offer you myself. I offer you my life and my love."

He stared at the pendant and then at me, his dark eyes wide and flecked with surprise. Fear gripped me once more in the moment of silence that settled between us, and my stomach felt like it was sliding further and further down my body. I watched him suck in a breath and slowly, carefully release it, the quietude broken by the delicate _whoosh_ of breathing. A delicious blush spread across his cheeks and the biggest grin I'd ever seen to grace his face slid into view. "I accept," he said, and his voice quavered with a jubilant tenderness. "I'll set everything up. We'll have the ceremony in three days, okay?"

His words were a rushed stream, but there was no unkindness in their pacing. Exultant joy cast a luminescence about him and I couldn't help but return the smile that he gave me. The prince of darkness looked damn good despite the light that seemed to be cascading off his skin. I could have cried from relief, but managed to contain myself in spite of the emotion surging within me. "That sounds great, Sebastian. Three days. That works out perfectly."

A look of confusion furrowed his brow for the merest of moments, but then sweet, crisp dawning fell upon him and his grin returned in full. "It is perfect, isn't it?"

I nodded, pressing closer to him. His arms wrapped around me snugly. _Perfect—_ truly that was the word to describe this moment as night conquered day, anger fell to liberty, and fears melted into the shadows that sheltered and consoled us. "Do you recall what I said to you last year around this time?"

He nodded with a sudden jerk of his head, and I knew he remembered now. "'Next year we shall bow to no Flower gods'," he murmured. "You are so clever."

"I try," I murmured, grinning in spite of myself.

"Imagine," he began, and there was a dreamy quality to the fevered look he wore. "In a couple days, I'm going to be living on a farm. I can't believe it." The words were soft and wistful. "I'm happy, though," he said, a shy smile curving his lips.

"Good," I whispered before my fiancé closed the distance between us and kissed me.


	35. Chapter 35 - The End

My hands shook with a violent agitation that crept up my arms and up my neck, casting a blush across my cheeks and down my neck. Around and beneath my hands, Sebastian's fingers squeezed mine with a steady reassurance. My eyes met his as I stopped focusing on our hands, and the warmth that greeted me felt overflowing with a brilliant radiance that made even the sun ashamed. To the side of us, Mayor Lewis stood, officiating with an almost pompous authority, his voice droning on in its almost pleasant quality. We were nearly there.

I snapped to attention as Lewis said our names, and I knew that the moment had come. "As the mayor of Pelican Town and regional bearer of the matrimonial seal, I now pronounce you wife and husband!" He paused and gave us a knowing glance. "You may kiss."

Cheers went up from the townsfolk before us, but I hardly heard them as Sebastian pulled me close and my heart raced. He kissed me deeply, and the world fell away as it always did with him. Normally I would have felt uncomfortable at such a kiss in front of so many eyes, but there was an elation in him that infected me with a frivolous intensity.

As we finally broke apart, I thought my eyes would brim over with joyful tears. The crowd was already dispersing as white confetti fluttered through the air. Of course, everyone had to get ready for the flower festival.

My parents hadn't been able to make it out on such short notice, but Sebastian and I had promised to drive out and visit them this coming weekend.

"Are you okay taking that much time away from your work?" I had asked, brow furrowed and hands wringing.

He had nodded solemnly. "It's important to you. I'll make it work." A sort of pride had straightened his back then. "We should make your parents feel as much a part of our wedding as possible."

My dear, sweet husband. What a catch. I sighed contentedly as I watched him say goodbye to Sam and Abigail.

 _Life is going to be different from now on_ , I thought. _But the future looks bright!_

Hand in hand, Sebastian and I meandered our way out of the town square. I sensed how uncomfortable he was in his tuxedo, and admittedly I felt similarly about my white dress. Besides, there would be time later to clean things up. We were, after all, not going to be attending today's festival as far as I knew.

The sun shone above us with a soft intensity that draped itself over our shoulders like a mantle, marking us as king and queen of the morning. It was funny, I thought, given how we were naturally creatures of the night.

As we reached the edge of our property Sebastian stopped and looked about himself, eyes wide, lips parted.

"I still can't believe it," he said, quiet and slightly breathless. "This is my home now. With you."

I nodded and tried to see the farm and our house through his eyes. The crops lay in rows, bright and bursting in many cases, and beyond them, the barns and coops lay like guardians watching over us. It was still so early in the day, but the cows, chickens, ducks, pigs, goats, and sheep were all wandering around without an air of sleepiness. At the far edges of the property, silos and windmills stood towering, casting shadows like fingers raking the land, their colouring warm and inviting. To the north, a small area had been cleared for Sebastian's motorcycle, which he would be riding over later in the week. And of course, my house—our house—sat expectantly before us, sprawling and welcoming, if not a little dated in its detailing.

"Go ahead," I said, gesturing for him to enter as we worked our way up the steps. "It's not locked."

With a moment's hesitation, he nodded and pushed the door open.

He wandered through the living room, his gaze lingering on the wide screen television flanked by a sofa and armchair. I was suddenly self-conscious about my décor choices which suddenly seemed rather haphazard. But Sebastian didn't comment on it.

"Oh, your stuff is in an area all for you." I led him to our bedroom, which suddenly seemed gratuitously spacious. Sunlight trickled in through the few windows I had installed, illuminating the dresser and plants I had placed without much thought.

And there sat my bed, which was now also his bed. I remembered how I had wished so often to just fall asleep in his bed and not have to worry about returning home at the end of the night. It was a strange, but wholly pleasant thought realizing that tonight would mark the first of many nights together. There would be no more pausing, no more consideration for how early I would have to be up in the morning, and no more regretful goodbyes lining the ends of our nights. The sheer extent of our shared future stretched before me, expansive and inevitable.

"It was so nice of your mom to build this little addition so quickly," I said, running my hand along the seam in the wall that had not existed a mere three days ago. "I'm glad you'll have an area that's all your own that you can work at." I gestured with my chin at his computer. "I haven't been the best at keeping up-to-date with the latest tech, admittedly."

He bobbed his head and stood, hands tucked into his pockets, surveying his new home. "Yeah, it already feels like home." Although I couldn't see his face, I heard the grin in his voice. He started to wander towards the kitchen. "I didn't realize you had an upper level even."

"Mmhm," I murmured, following after him. "I don't really use it. This place is way too big for one person." He mounted the stairs ahead of me. "Even for the two of us, I don't think we'll fill the space."

He stopped, taking in the small rec room I had slovenly put together. I realized with a jolt what my wallpaper was: a city skyline against a delicate sunset. I had a few bookshelves along the wall, one of which I had already put most of Sebastian's books onto. A small table sat in the corner, flanked by some pillows to sit on, and along the opposite wall, a sofa sat drenched in sunlight. "This is a great room for reading and playing games."

I laughed. "I need more games to put in here, but yeah, this is my little rec room. I don't spend much time here, but I guess that'll change now that I won't be over at your place."

He pointed at the small hallway that led off the room. "What's in there?"

"Oh," I shrugged, feeling my face go red. "That's another bedroom."

"May I?"

I waved a hand. "Of course! This is as much your house now as it is mine."

He cast a smile at me before he ventured forward. "Oh," he breathed.

"I can explain," I bleated hurriedly. "Your mom threw in the crib and the little beds for free. They were some side projects she had been working on that she wasn't keen on selling." I paused, chewing on my lower lip. "They were a gift. She figured that for a place this big, it made sense that a family would live here. At least, eventually."

He turned to face me, eyebrows raised. "This must have happened while we were dating."

"Uh," I hesitated, my mind racing for an answer. "Yes."

Laughter burst out of him, nervous but not unkind. "Oh, mom. She really likes you, you know that? And I guess this is her way of saying she wants grandkids."

I didn't think my face could burn redder, but it did.

"Oh," he stopped laughing abruptly as my silence swallowed me. "I don't want you to feel pressured." He paused, a look of concern stealing across his face. "My mom should never have forced these baby things on you. I apologize on her behalf."

I bit my bottom lip. Curse that Rasmodius. Had he really foreseen all of this? "No, no, it's okay." He quirked an eyebrow at me. "It's just—" I hesitated, taking in my husband's curious expression. "I used to never want kids. I didn't want to have my own family. It seemed impossible, you know?" I sighed softly. "But meeting you, I don't know, something changed." My shoulders raised and lowered as I chewed the inside of my lips. "With you, I think it would be worth it, starting a family and raising our own little monsters to take on the world." I stopped and took in the blush that had found its way back to Sebastian's cheeks. "I just—I just don't think now is necessarily the right time."

"Of course," he said, voice low and ripe with emotion. His gaze was intense and I had to remind myself that as of less than an hour ago, this intensity was all mine. "So we'll wait for when it's the right time. Like when we met," he paused as his hands grasped my own, "it was exactly the right time."

 _How funny_ , I thought, _for us to have met when we did_. It felt as though it had been ages ago when he had first confided his desire to move to the city in the kitchen of his house. And there I had been, talking to his mother, wondering how a week had gone by and I still hadn't met everyone yet. Small things, innocent things, and yet a relationship had developed between us that had turned out to be all-encompassing, life-changing.

"Yes," I murmured, nodding slightly, "it was exactly right."

As we shared our second kiss as a married couple it struck me then: I was completely, wholeheartedly, overwhelmingly at peace. There were no obsidian claws tracing my consciousness, no growls of malcontent lurking in my gut. I knew in my heart, in my very core, that I was exactly where I belonged. Over the course of a year, the valley had become my home, and its residents had accepted me into their fold. And sure, I wasn't friends with all of them, but I was friends with enough. After everyone's initial misgivings, somehow I had been able to weather the uncertainty and win them over to a comfortable tolerance. They were good people, by and large, and I was thankful that neither I nor them had given up on the other.

It had not been an easy year with all the ups and downs and growing pains of adjustment, but as I looked at the man before me, I knew with a strange confidence that it all had been worth it. The tears, the nightmares, the loneliness—none of it mattered now. They all were part of my story, but not a part of me, not anymore.

 _Goodbye, wretched beast_ , I thought, and though I hadn't spoken aloud, Sebastian gave me a suspiciously knowing smile.

*So," he said softly, "you're sure you don't want to go to the flower festival?"

I nodded. "Not unless you want to."

He shook his head, a sigh of relief escaping him. "No, no. I'm just thankful." His embrace tightened.

I grinned. "I get it." Raising an eyebrow at him, I continued, "Do you remember what I said we'd say to the God of Flowers this year?"

His lips curved into a smile. "'Not today.'" And he kissed me again.


	36. Epilogue - Thirteen Hearts, Being

_Year 3, Day 1_

Somehow, spring had crept up on us.

I awoke covered in sweat, the heavy comforter and bedsheets twisted about my body. I was alone with the trickling of sunlight slinking its way across me.

Almost a year had passed since our wedding, and I was used to waking up alone despite falling asleep nestled beside my husband every night.

The transition to married life had presented its own highs and lows. As much as we loved each other, it had become clear that we each needed our space.

That first season had been an awkward one, wherein we both had encountered miscues and surprises. Although Sebastian hadn't quit his job, he had taken it upon himself to change his sleeping habits, which had confused me initially. It had taken a few weeks to suss out that he was doing this to help me with small things like making my morning coffee and filling Dog's water bowl. But we had since fallen into a rhythm; every Monday he visited his mom and every Friday night he hung out with his friends. They were also my friends, too, and so sometimes I would join them, but even I needed alone time sometimes.

Which wasn't to say that Sebastian had glued himself to my hip, but I tended to see him several times throughout the day as I came in to drop things into the many chests around the house.

So I took my time this morning preparing something I knew Sebastian liked. I appreciated that he wanted to help me, and perhaps even more, I appreciated that he gave me my space.

By the time I stepped out onto our front porch, the sun had already risen, and I knew that I was running behind in my chores for the day. I pushed down the feelings of panic that tried to surface as I took in Sebastian's calm form. He stood on the porch, hunched over with his elbows resting on the railing. Dressed all in black, he was a shadow missing the resplendent contrast of the pure, pristine snow that had blanketed everything less than 24 hours ago. He seemed caught in his own thoughts, though a faint smile traced his lips.

"Good morning," I said, keeping my voice low so as not to startle him too abruptly.

He turned at the sound of my voice, his smile deepening as his dark gaze fell on me.

Somehow, even after being married for nearly a full year, it still felt like his eyes were depthless pools that I drowned in every time he looked at me. It was my favourite kind of demise.

"Morning," he replied, his eyes sliding to my hands tucked behind my back. "What have you got there?"

With only a small amount of hesitation I presented what I held in my hands. "One of your favourites."

He grinned as he took the plate of sashimi from me and grasped the chopsticks I proffered. "So good. Definitely one of my favourites."

As he ate, I looked out at our farm. Dog was already zipping around, barking happily as he chased things only he could see—sylphs, pixies, junimos; there was something undeniably magical about the start of a new year even if I missed the sanctity of winter.

My eyes strayed out towards the barns and coops. "Wait a minute," I said, then stopped. "Did you repair the fences?"

Beside me, he nodded. I heard him swallow. "I noticed they needed some repairing and thought I could help you out with that."

"Sebastian," I breathed, "that is so sweet of you." I was used to him preparing coffee for me in the mornings or presenting me with his finds from an insomnia-fueled night spent exploring the caves. But this went beyond those little perks that brightened my mornings.

He shrugged as he popped the last piece of sashimi into his mouth. "It's just one of the few ways I can show you my thanks."

I blinked at him. "For?"

He chuckled under his breath. "For marrying me, putting up with me, and moving me out here." He waved a hand out at the land before us. Even from here I could see that the soil was ripe and ready for new growth. "This has been good for me. I feel like I've been coming out of my shell since I've started living here."

"I'm glad," I said, leaning my head on his shoulder. "I am so thankful." I breathed out a quiet sigh. "I was nervous, I admit. Especially since you're not really the farming type. But then," I paused, sucking in a breath, "neither was I. And even now," I shrugged. "Sometimes these things just become us."

He nodded and swiftly bent to put the plate and chopsticks down. "I was nervous, too. But there's something about this lifestyle." He gave a half-shrug. "It allows me so much freedom. I really can't thank you enough," he paused, and I detected that he was struggling with the words. I waited. "It's just," he began, "you didn't give up on me. You didn't give up when you saw how quiet and reserved I am, you didn't give in when you thought I liked Abigail, you didn't give up when I was on the cusp of moving to the city even." He shook his head slightly. "You stuck to your guns."

"Honestly," I began, looking at him through a sideways glance, "if it weren't for you, I don't think I would've stayed out here." I watched him shuffle with a mild discomfort. "No family, no support—I would have given up. Falling asleep beside you every night is as much thanks as I need."

"Well," he straightened with a sigh, "there _is_ something I've been wanting to give you. You don't have to consider it a thank you." He leaned back as he reached into the pocket of his hoodie. "Close your eyes."

Bewildered, I obliged. Something smooth and angular was placed in my outstretched hands, thin and bursting at the same time.

"Open them."

"Oh, what's this?" I studied the strange fruit cradled in my hands. It was a vibrant purple, plump and fleshy with its ripeness. "A starfruit," I breathed. "May I?"

He nodded at my gesture, and I bit into it, its sticky juices dribbling down my chin. As I swallowed this bite down, I felt a warmth and energy flow through me. I was aflame; I was electric.

"Honey," he began, a blush creeping across his cheeks. "I wanted to give you give you that fruit as a symbol of my love."

I reached up with sticky fingers and cradled his chin, aware of every point of friction as I touched him. "Thank you."

"Hey," he began, eyes soft, "I want to show you something." He caught my hand in his and pulled me off the front porch.

There was a quick clip in his step as he led me down the steps and along the stone path.

"What is it?" I asked between bites of the starfruit. All too soon I was left with just the stem and the solitary leaf that hung off it. I hungered for more, but the heady sense of power that had surged through me now spoke with caution. Starfruit was a treat, and for now I had had my fill.

He didn't answer me until I realized where we were. We stood in the northwestern corner of our property, a familiar shrine glinting before us. "I did my morning tour of the farm and noticed something was different."

I let go of his hand as I approached my grandpa's shrine. It looked spectacular as always, somehow able to weather the passing seasons with an immaculate dignity. However, Sebastian was right—something was different.

"The candles," I murmured as I studied them, a reverence filling me. The holders had sat empty for years now, and yet four of them had been lighted. But not a single stream of wax dripped down them. It was as though they had been freshly lit, but if Sebastian had already seen them like this...

"How?" I asked, turning to face my husband.

His brow was creased, his mouth tight-lipped. "I don't know."

"Do you think it was a prank?" I frowned.

He shook his head. "No, I don't think so. The strange thing is that I passed by here twice. The second time is when the candles showed up." His gaze was steady and grounding. "No one else was on the property. I swear."

Drawing in a deep breath, I nodded. Could it be that this was some sort of sign from my grandpa? My grandpa had given so much of himself to this farm. It didn't seem so farfetched that somehow a part of him was still here, lingering, watching over me.

Sebastian took a step forward and grasped my hand, not caring how much juice still slicked my fingers. "What do you make of it?" His voice was low and uncertain.

I swallowed, a muddled mixture of emotion working its way up my throat. "I think it's a sign." I looked at the man who stood beside me, his stance protective of me even now as we faced this threshold between the physical and spiritual. "The shrine is complete. Just like me."

 _Thank you, grandpa_ , I thought _, thank you for this life you've given me._ And Sebastian wrapped me in a tight embrace as the candles flickered merrily before us.


	37. Author's Note: Thank You!

Hi there! First off, I wanted to say that it's finally done! The story of our farmer and Sebastian has come to an end, and I want to thank you all for braving the slow updates, the farmer's ambiguous gender (it was intentional, but then my hand got forced at some point), the plot twists and turns, and my long absences.

I can't believe I started this back in September 2016—it's taken almost two years to complete! I'm thankful to all of you for reading along, adding this to your favourites, and subscribing to new updates. I've read every review written and experienced moments of absolute shock at your kind words. All I've ever wanted was for my words to be read (and, okay, yes, some of these words are ConcernedApe's dialogue exactly), and you all have contributed to this gratifying wish.

Thank you, dear readers. You made it all worth it!


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